


Color-Coded

by AnonStray28



Category: Underfell - Fandom, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underswap (Undertale), Fluff, I'll fix these later-, I've used the word chuckle 23 times now help, M/M, Mild Alphine and Papyton later, Multiverse, My First AO3 Post, My First Fanfic, No one can stop fucking laughing, Papyrus is way too innocent, Plot, Pre-Undertale Pacifist Route, Slow Burn, Underfell Sans (Undertale), Underswap's in the tags but honestly they're hardly here, classics confused as hell, generic as hell plot, help this is obsession, i legit get distracted as hell while writing so if im late blame the click, i love you guys and this fandom but also its like this game came out years ago, im having a seizure in the tags, im thinking about rewriting this, im trying my best to be a good writer sue me, oh yeah red's got the mouth of a sailor if y'couldn't tell, red's a dork who tries to act tough, seriously this is full of fluffy shit, yeah im totally rewriting this later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2020-03-29 13:16:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 37,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19020697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonStray28/pseuds/AnonStray28
Summary: Red woke up in a really fucked-up state. He was suffering from a hangover, lying in Grillby's dumpster, and he likely couldn't even make it home on his own. How could life get any worse?He found the answer to that question the moment Grillby stepped into the alleyway.His life was about to get a hell of a lot more complicated.





	1. A Rude Awakening

**Author's Note:**

> i've decided to just update this thing whenever i really kinda wanna instead of stressing a schedule, so i can't promise when it will finish. all i can promise, is that it WILL finish. i despise fics that have no endings, and i don't wish to partake in this trend. so, that said, i will make sure y'all have one helluva slapping ending. bear with me. 
> 
> i may also start up some other fics for whenever i don't have the inspiration for this one. if y'all into some good 'ole bug's life fics, i got a short tisotamer fic up for the hollow knight fandom, and soon, i should be posting for OFF and similarly decade old fandoms as well.
> 
> stay safe and love yourselves. chao.
> 
> 12/26/19:  
> i'm redoing chapters one through five since they're pretty damn bad. I decided to make a lil log until it's done so you know if you're reading a shit chapter or not. this note will go away once the rewriting is done!  
> CHPT 1: updated!  
> CHPT 2: updated!  
> CHPT 3: updated!  
> CHPT 4: wip  
> CHPT 5: not started

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red has a bit of a rude awakening. Well, considering he knocked himself back out, you could count that as two rude awakenings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sup! I'll warn you now so you don't have to be frustrated later: I'm new at writing, so this fic is may have errors, plot holes, sloppy writing; a lot wrong with it. But, hey, practice is the only way to get better, right? I'll try my best to iron out any errors or awkward writing, but if you find any yourself, telling me would be very appreciated.
> 
> I have a lot of the plot planned out, and I'm planning on having longer chapters, but for now, here's chapter one. Sorry it's a bit short.
> 
> Enjoy!

“Urrg...”

Red groaned as he faded in and out of consciousness. He tried to open his eyes at some point, but he found he couldn’t. His head felt ready to implode, and his body was as heavy as lead. He didn’t know where he was or how he got there. If he could think clearly for just a moment, he would have written the whole scenario off as a bad hangover, but he wasn’t doing a great job at playing Einstein right now. Painstakingly, he managed to lift his hand and bring it to his eyes, vainly trying to block out the light pouring through his eyelids. He grumbled when he accidentally dislodged something in the process, wincing as whatever it was fell to the ground and shattered. It sounded like some sort of bottle.

As much as he wanted to lie here forever, the danger of not knowing where he was couldn’t be taken lightly. He braced himself and gave a half-assed attempt to lift himself up. A tremor ran through him, his breath went shallow, and pain shot up his spine, but he managed to lift himself into a sitting position, at least. Red forced himself to crack his eyes open, and he let the light scorch them while he tried to make sense of his surroundings.

Well, to start, he was in an alleyway lying in a trash can. Alright. He wasn’t in immediate danger, at least. He glanced down. The can he was in was decently small and rusted from years of use, and at the moment, it was overflowing with trash (if you counted Red.) The concrete around the line of trash cans was surprisingly clean, minus the fact that a ketchup bottle was shattered at the base of the can he sat in. That must have been what he knocked loose. He rubbed his eyes and straightened his spine, taking a deep breath.

The air smelled of burnt food, plastic, wood; Just burnt shit in general. Were those spices he smelled..?  _ Ugh, _ he thought as he registered the familiar smells around him.  _ Grillbz must’ve got tired of my shit and tossed me in the dump after I blinked out. _

He heard a click from behind him and grinned as a familiar crackling confirmed his suspicions. This was the third time this month he’s been thrown out here, he should be used to this by now. The asshole was probably here to dump garbage on ’em and yell at him to go home before he sicked the dogs on ’em. At least he didn’t call his bro on ’em anymore; this was better by a long shot. When he heard the door shut behind the fire monster, he shuffled up and shoved his legs over the side of the can, waving off the figure behind him. “I know th’ drill bud, ’m leavin’, so don’t sweat it..” he muttered in his normal raspy tone. His vision grew hazy as he tried to lift himself over the can and onto solid ground, so he stopped. He felt weak and wasn’t sure if he could get home in one piece this time. Paps would be mad as hell if he had to rush over here to get him in the middle of cooking breakfast, though, so he had to try at least.

_ “Sans?!” _ The voice behind him choked out. He almost forgot Grillby was there, he was so caught up worrying over his bro. Something sounded off, though…

 

“‘Sup-” He started, snapping his gaze to the fire monster who was now standing behind him, much closer than he was comfortable with. His vision focused, and a chill ran up his spine.  _ That isn’t Grillbz, the fuck? _ The figure stood there, worry and shock written across his face. Everything about this screamed ‘run.’

The stranger’s flames flickered over him in a reddish-orange glow. His frame was wiry and small. His glasses lacked Grillby’s characteristic crack. Whenever one of the imposter’s hands came down and firmly held Sans’ shoulder, the heat  _ didn’t _ begin to melt the bone. Sans was staring blankly and putting his terror on an HD display, but he couldn’t bring himself to look away.

“W-Who.. the fuck..” he sputtered, shrinking in on himself and cursing as his magic didn’t form or work. He couldn’t even take a shortcut. He was screwed. He needed to run, hide, something,  _ this wasn’t right,  _ but his limbs refused to listen to him, and he stood stalk still, frozen.

The fire monster looked worried, but Red didn’t trust it. He saw past that facade in a damn second. When the fire monster started to slip his hand under his legs,  _ probably to fucking carry him, _ Red snapped. “G-Get the fuck away from me!” he shouted, weakly summoning a bone and aiming for the bartender’s neck.

_ “W-Wait! I only wish to help, Sans, please, let me-” _ The bartender halted and abruptly pulled back, a flaming hand still lingering on his shoulder. He looked surprised or disturbed by something. Red hesitated, the bone he summoned on the verge of deforming.  _ “Your tooth..” _ The flame mumbled, looking puzzled as he stared at the golden fang. He subconsciously lifted his hand to hold Red’s chin, and the skeletal monster panicked. He jerked his arm away quickly, and the momentum sent him and the trash can falling backwards.

His skull collided with the pavement with a sickening *CRACK.* He must have used his formed attack at some point during the encounter, because the last thing he heard as his vision faltered was flames powerfully roaring in anguish and a distant voice shouting.

\-----

_ “Sans, what the actual FUCK is that thing?!” _ Grillby all but shrieked. The usually composed bartender was struggling with his composure.

Sans sighed, knowing he would have to come up with some sort of an answer. Silence would only fuel the bartender’s fear. He went with his classic, truthful response. “i dunno.” Grillby glared over his shoulder. Guess that was the wrong answer.

Sans shrugged it off and focused on prying out the dense bone lodged in his friend’s shoulder. Though he wasn’t doing it on purpose, his sockets were eerily void, and Grillby couldn’t read his friend’s blank expression. “let’s talk about this later, grillbz.” His flames crackled, and he nodded in hesitant agreeance. What other option does he have?

Meanwhile, Sans set out the evidence out in his head, trying to make sense of the bizarre situation. Point one, Grillby found this guy outside in the trash. Point two, he was clearly drunk last night. That’s the only two points that made any sense.  _ Point three, he looks exactly like me. _ Sans shook his head. He couldn’t get over that. All of this lined up perfectly and explained his recent research and findings, but... He never thought one of his craziest throwaway theories would slap him right in the face. He always had subconsciously thought the disruption he detected in the universe was a fluke or caused by a misuse of his powers. Despite that, the cards were popping up aces, and his doppelganger was physical proof of the theory he studied and feared: The existence of a Multiverse. This had to be one of his fucked up nightmares, or he’s lost it for real this time. There’s no way this is reality, right..?

Sans grunted and gave the bone one last rough jerk in a final attempt to dislodge the bone. He immediately regretted it when it roughly popped out of the flames and despawned, causing Grillby to cry out weakly. They quickly clasped a burning cloth over Grillbz’ wounded shoulder and told him to take a breather. After ensuring his friend would be fine, he left the kitchen and drifted over to the roughed-up skeleton on the couch. He looked miserable. Soon after Sans found the two, Grillby stopped him from attacking and strongly insisted in wrapping the trembling figure in a blanket and hauled him upstairs into the fire monster’s suite. After surrounding him with a generous amount of throws and making sure his HP wouldn’t falter, his hands were tightly bound with rope. Better not risk it, right?

The hungover skeleton looked exactly like him. Did he even need to explain how creepy that was? Thankfully, though, there were a few noticeable differences that made San’s horror bearable. To start, while his magic was blue, this guy’s magic was a dark crimson, a shade reminiscent of blood. He bore a large crack in his skull that drug through his socket and ended a little below his right eye, and the bone in that region was still sharp. It had to be a fresh wound, one that Sans couldn’t have survived with his HP as it is. To his credit, the guy had a great sense of fashion. His clothing looked identical to Sans’s, minus the fact that the other chose to don red variants. And, he wore a... Collar? This all goes without mentioning the sharpened golden tooth jutting out of his mouth, looking all too practical for comfort.  _ it’s better to ignore it _ , Sans decided.

“so. what are we going to do with ’em, grillbz?”

The bartender poked his head out from the kitchen, his flames dimming, and a smokey sigh leaving him when the question was posed.

_ “Well..”  _ He sighed.  _ “.....I don’t know. He had no malicious intent.” _ Sans raised an eyebrow. Looking at the rough, terrifying figure under him, this seemed unlikely at best.

“explain the bone, then, bud.”

Grillby ran his hand through his hair and huffed as he thought to retrieve a bag of wood chips from under a kitchen counter.  _ probably comfort food,  _ Sans thought, waiting patiently for an explanation. Grillby tossed a chip in his ‘mouth’ and finally answered.

“...He was scared, and I pushed his boundaries. He told me to back up, and I failed to.” Grillby averted his gaze. “I shouldn’t have gotten so close.”

Sans couldn’t help but chuckle, and Grillby shot him a glare. “wow, really put the heat on him. that’s one way to get your ass kicked.” The fire monster narrowed his eyes, and Sans chuckled. “’m kiddin’. so, uh, next question. should we try to wake him up..?”

Grillby paused to contemplate this, but before he could respond, a groan came from the couch, and Sans nearly jumped out of his skin.

“speak of the devil,” Sans murmured, turning his attention to the figure next to him as Grillby strode out of the kitchen.

Red was still partially asleep and felt even worse than before. If his head didn’t ache earlier, it sure as hell did now. There was a sharp pain collecting in the back of his skull. _ Did I fall...? _ He pessimistically wondered, gasping as he felt a cloth press against the back of his head. It hurt like hell, but he was too tired and hurt to protest. The pain slowly began to fade, and confusion set in as he noticed a new, unfamiliar tingle flooded his senses.  _ Is someone healing me...? _

After a small while, the cloth left his head, as did the odd feeling it brought with it. His pain had subsided into a minor headache by the time his unknown ally was done with their shenanigans, and he felt slightly less shitty.

As soon as he felt mentally strong enough to put up with the shit going on outside of his own head, he opened his eyes. He immediately wished he kept them shut.

Standing in front of him was someone who looked exactly fucking like him. And behind him was… O _ h fuck. _ He mentally swore, his eyelights shrinking to pinpricks that focused on the flame standing behind his doppelganger. It was the imposter from the dump. He didn’t look particularly angry, but he was holding a rag of some sort to his shoulder, and a large area around where he was focusing the pressure burned dark red. It was pretty clear to Red that he had a decent aim, even while nearly passing out. It was even more clear to him that this was suddenly not a good thing. Terror fueled him, and he jerked back. He tried to get up, only to find his hands were tied behind him. _ I’m fucked. _ He stood stock-still and said a silent prayer to every makeshift deity he could think of. His gaze nervously flicked between the duo in front of him.

“U-Uh-” He started to speak, only to break down into raspy, soul-shaking coughs that had him reeling. His throat felt like someone had raked a crowbar down the length of it. He didn’t know a hangover could leave him this bad off. He felt something touch his shoulder and jerked, appreciative that whatever it was didn’t linger.

“hey, take it easy, buddy!” a voice distantly spoke to him. By the time he had finished coughing, tears had welled up in his eyes, and the figure above him had shifted to kneel on the floor, hesitantly hovering his hand over his shoulder. He silently gave in and let the hand rest on his shoulder without issue.  _ Why the hell are these guys so damn touchy? _

Red took time to observe his captors as the monster above him began to rub comforting circles with his thumb. He didn’t feel half as terrified as he did a couple minutes ago, considering the two hadn’t yet hurt him, a good sign.

The skeleton standing before him was, well... HIM. He was a living, blue-tinted replica of yours truly. He really could replace Red, if it wasn’t for the fact that he looked like a total wimp. He was quick to notice. No scars, no cracks... Hell, he doesn’t even file his teeth down! His jacket screamed “softy,” and his gaze was so relaxed... _ Damn, how has the lucky bastard not been dusted? _ He thought,  _ He doesn’t even try to look tough. _

His thoughts were interrupted as the monster above him cleared his throat, straightened his back, and lifted his hand off his shoulder to shove it in his pocket. You’d never hear Red admit it, but... He missed the comfort as soon as it left.

“so. who the hell are you?” The skeleton suddenly looked a lot more serious, Red noted. His sockets were now void, a trick Red often used to look threatening. He found it looked even more unsettlingly on someone who previously looked harmless. He’d be a damn liar to say it didn’t scare him.

_ “Sans. Be kinder, would you not?”  _ A voice muttered from behind him. The walking night light was leaning against the kitchen’s door frame and staring daggers at his friend.  _ “ _ Sans _?” _

They both turned their attention back to him, and he realized he had spoken aloud. “uh, yep. comic sans g. 01 snowdin ave. 272-9787. any other info ya need, or are you going to start spilling your own?” A hint of amusement crossed his face as he spoke, but it was short-lived when he saw Red’s expression.

“You’re shitting me,” Red muttered, squinting skeptically. He must have looked like a deer in the headlights, because he sure as hell felt like one.

“nope.” The skeleton’s grin didn’t falter.

“There’s no fucking way-” He was interrupted by a hand clasping onto his arm and making him choke on his words. His shoulder was squeezed. Hard.

“look. i don’t like threatening anyone. but, if you don’t offer up some info soon, we’ll have to get the royal guar-”

“My name is Sans,” He spat out, his glare boring into the other’s skull. “And I don’t know who the hell you think you are, ‘Sans,’ but call the royal guard and my brother wil-” He saw the glint of anger in the other’s eyes as he was cut off, again.

“i don’t believe you,” the other snarled, his iron grip tightening again. His scapula would crack with any more pressure.

This was quickly escalating into a heated argument, and Red could see the fire monster behind them start to walk over to them. His expression was unreadable. Panic raced through his system, and his blood was boiling, so he blurted out the last thing he could think of before Grillby could make it closer. _ “Run a fucking check then, bonehead!” _ He yelled, surprising his questioner and driving both him and the flame behind him back a little. The grip on his shoulder loosened.

“you’re lying.” his captor scoffed, his voice filled to the brim with uncertainty.

Red’s voice came out raspy and low, bluntly carrying the gravity of his request.

“call my bluff, then.”

After a couple of intense moments of Sans staring him down and trying to get him to break, he felt the familiar prod against his soul as his stats were displayed for all to see.

              SANS 1 ATK 1 DEF

           * Tibia honest, He’s not finding this very humerus.

As the pair in front of him stared at his stats in horror, he took the opportunity to slip his own check in on his imposter. There was no way he was who he said he was, no fucking way. Whenever ‘Sans’ didn’t resist the check, though, doubt crept in. This HAD to be a facade, right…?

              SANS 1 ATK 1 DEF

           * He’s chilled to the bone.

Dead silence filled the room. The only sound present was the soft crackle of Grillby’s flames, and even then, you could still hear a pin drop. Finally, Red tore his eyes from Sans’ stats. He couldn’t fathom what was happening, and he could feel his breath grow heavier as dread set in. He probably would have given into his terror and cried then and there, should his newfound clone not have spoken up.

“wh- there has to be an explanation for this. uh... dear deltarune, fuck, i... i have a theory, if you’re willing to humor it... “

“W-Well, talus then, we don’t have all day,” Red snapped. He was hoping a bad pun would either lift the tension between the two or hide his fear, both if he was lucky. He usually defaulted to his shitty jokes in these situations anyway, but going by the slight smirk Grillby conjured, they might have just worked in his favor for once.

At first, Sans just stared at him dumbly. Most of his brainpower seemed to still be on the situation at hand, and rightly so. The gears in his head were slowly turning as if he couldn’t register the fact that Red just used a  _ pun _ . Suddenly, his eyes lit up, and a smile quickly spread across his face. He was trying his hardest to hold back his laughter. Red saw the look in his newfound friend’s eyes and cracked a sly grin, relieve flooding him as he realized his scheme to ease the tension worked flawlessly.

Sans gave in and snorted, and the room erupted into laughter. Neither of them did well with tense situations, so once the opportunity came to break the tension, the two couldn’t help but laugh like damned idiots at the stupidest thing. Even Grillby let out a bemused chuckle, though he really just found it funny how easily entertained and distracted the two skeletons in front of him were. Soon, Red was out of breath, and his ribs ached from laugher, but he was thrilled to finally find someone who appreciated puns as much as he did. Truthfully, he didn’t expect a stupid joke to work so well, though, he guesses he knows himself better than anyone. Sans was still reeling minutes later. His booming, breathy laughter was absolutely contagious to Red. He couldn’t help himself and started laughing yet again, disregarding his sore throat. Sans’ gasped and looked up at him, tears forming in his eyes. He clasped his hand onto Red’s knee in an attempt to steady himself, but his efforts were in vain. He was laughing maniacally as soon as Red gave another rough chuckle, throwing them both into howling laughter once again. The pun wasn’t even that funny, Sans knew, but laughter is notoriously contagious, and Red’s hearty barks nearly made it addictive. It took several minutes for them to both calm down, and when they did, it was only because they were both too exhausted to continue on as they were.

It took much longer than it should have, but they both gained their composure enough to form actual words instead of gaspy wisps of what were supposed to be syllables.

“w- hahaha, wh-whew jeez. i haven’t laughed that hard in years!” Sans gasped out, rubbing the tears out of eyes with his sleeve. He didn’t notice the near-sadistic grin his pal had plastered on.

“‘Guess you could say..” Sans snickered, and Red nearly broke up. Both of them knew the classic punchline, but it didn’t make it any less funny. “‘M-M pretty humerus?”

Red was definitely trying to break his rib cage. It took 10 more minutes for them to compose themselves after that one. If anyone in Snowdin was trying to sleep in today, the punny duo no doubt ruined any chance of that.

“My ribs hurt, Dear Asgore,” Red finally gasped out. A dark red flush stained his face, and for once, his smile was genuine. Undoubtedly strained from half an hour of laughter with a sore throat, but geniune. He might actually pass out again if, Asgore forbid, Sans’ had puns of his own.

“that’s probably a spine that we should stop, buddy.” Sans shot back with a wink. They both chuckled at that one. If they had the energy, no doubt, they would have fallen into hysterics, but both of them were flustered and gasping for air as it is. Red was very seriously questioning whether or not falling asleep then and there, in a stranger’s home with a guy he met an hour ago, would be  _ smart _ . Exhaustion really did numbers on the guy.

Red was lost in thought. He didn’t even notice Sans had got up until suddenly, the hand that was gently rubbing circles into his knee broke away. Hell, he didn’t even see Sans had rested his hand there in the first place, but his expression showed how much he missed it. He looked up at Sans and nearly choked when he saw him looking back at him with slight surprise, and... was that a fucking blush? They broke eye contact, and Sans quickly fled to the kitchen for a couple of minutes. Red shrugged the moment off and tried his best to forget it. But he couldn’t help but think.  _ ‘M usually not that easy to read, the hell? _

Sans returned with two glasses of water and held one out to Red. “bone-appetite. y’ must really be tired after puns that skullful.” Sans smoothly changed the topic, and Red’s dignity was again saved by shitty puns.

Red grinned. “Water ya talking about? I just went with the flow!” They both chuckled, and Red reached his hand out to take the water, only for them to both become acutely aware that he was still tied up.

“oh uh, water boat i help ya there..” Sans said with a chuckle, setting down their drinks and summoning a sharp bone. He stopped and deformed the attack, however, when he noticed Red had tensed and looked startled. Red couldn’t stomach the feeling of being so vulnerable while Sans summoned an attack behind his back. They were both made very aware that they’ve known each other for an hour at most. Red’s magic couldn’t form like this. If Sans turned on him, he couldn’t get out of this one. But what choice did he have? If Sans was hostile, they surely would have fucking killed him by now, yeah? Red forced himself to relax and put on a strained smile when he saw the blue monster hesitate and start to disintegrate his magic entirely.

“Ah, just... D-Dew what you need to bud, it’s not like I Current-ly have another Wave outta this..!” Red chuckled dryly, trying to mask his fear with humor. He knew Sans saw right through him. After eying him warily, though, the blue skeleton reformed the bone he was holding. He looked much more hesitant than before.

“‘ey, uh, don’t be a total beach after i cut ya loose, yeah...? heh heh, i-i’d rather not end up driftwood, y’know,” Sans muttered, placing one hand firmly against Red’s back and lining the bone’s edge against the rope. He was stalling. Red’s hesitation gave him the time and reason to rethink things. After all, why would he want to cut loose a random stranger who attacked his friend? Because he likes his puns? Grillby said he had no ill intent, but is it possible Red’s intentions aren’t as innocent as they seem…?

“Why would I..? Dam, I’m not that Shallow! J-Just get me loose before I get rope burn, would ya?” Red said with a nervous chuckle. He was becoming increasingly aware of the distrust and fear Sans’ was beginning to show towards him, and it was fueling his own anxiety. Seeing as he was turned on his stomach and a sharp bone was prodding at his wrists, his supposed pal’s hesitation wasn’t doing much to quell his distress. Sans took a deep breath and jerked up on the bone he was gripping, shredding through the rope and freeing his potentially dangerous clone before he could overthink it.

He didn’t take his hand off Red’s back for another couple seconds, eventually removing it when Red cleared his throat. He busied himself with grabbing their waters as Red sat up and examined his wrists. He tried to convince himself to put a bit of trust in his newfound ‘friend,’ but he found he couldn’t let him out of his sights without fear spiking through him.

“Wow, uh... Sew, y’gonna hand me my water, or knot?” He said with a nervous laugh. Sans caught on.

“Oh, I’m a fraid I can’t.” He semi-calmly replied as he held the water just out of Red’s reach.

“I’d fight you for it, but’m a bit wrapped up here, y’know.” He clasped his wrists together and let a stray piece of rope hang over them, dramatically holding them up for Sans to see. He was helplessly bound.

Sans chuckled and brushed the rope off Red’s wrists with a single swipe, finally handing him his water. “i’d try to best that, but im a bit too underprepped to keep up with a pun master like you.”

Red grabbed his water from the other’s hands and grinned, “Let’s call this one a tie, yeah?”

“haha, yeah.”

Sans sat down on the coffee table across from Red, seemingly a lot more comfortable with him now.

Silence drew between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Sans stared down into his cup, while Red studied the room around them. He considered asking where the walking bonfire went, but seeing as he was ‘Grillby,’ apparently, he probably had a bar to run.

Before he could think more about the twisted doppelganger situation and what the fuck any of this meant, Sans spoke up. “so, uh... wouldn’t really do to be calling each other sans and sans all the time. Might as well start coming up with nicknames for each other.”

Red pondered it. It definitely made sense, even if what he should call himself and... himself, wasn’t a top priority at the moment. But, it was just in his nature to procrastinate the more significant issues and focus on the small ones, wasn’t it?

“Fair point. Ah, nicknames, let’s see..” Red thought a moment, then cracked a smile.

“Heh... I’d name ya after my favorite elements, but you aren’t exactly copper or tellurium, buddy.” Red mused, setting his cup down. He expected his counterpart to take longer to get his half-assed, poor excuse for a joke, but nope, Sans snorted as soon as the words left his mouth. Must be a science nerd.

“wow, is that a nice way of calling me ugly?” Sans raised an eyebrow as he slumped back and shoved his hands into his pockets. “i can still dump you back in the trash, y’know.”

“Pssh, drama queen,” Red rolled his eyes and took another swig from his glass.

“hm.. how ’bout i call ya red? it suits ya pretty well.” Sans hummed, an earnest half-grin spreading across his face. Red snickered.

“‘Red?’ Really? Pahaha, What are we, In 5th grade, color coding our notes again?” Red barked out in a dry chuckle.

“it’s on the nose, fits ya well, and it’s gonna be damningly hard to forget. what? not good enough for ya? alright then bud, since you don’t like red, would you rather me call you jerry? those are your options, choose wisely.”

Red paused. Use the half-assed third-grader-esk name he was offered, or... Uck, Jerry... He would have taken his time to decide if Sans hadn’t started humming Jeopardy music.

“Ugh, alright, alright, whatever. Red it is.”

Sans halted his humming and chuckled, flashing a lazy thumbs up. “so, any idea what you’d wanna call me, or are we gonna go with ‘sans 2?’”

Red flashed him a toothy grin. “Sans 2 isn’t too shitty of a name, y’ know. It’s on the nose and fits well, and will be damningly hard to forget. ‘Sides, makes room for me to tell people ‘I was so damn great, they had to make a sequel!’” Sans broke off into choked laughter, and Red shook his head and chuckled into his next sentence. “Look, I’ll just get used to callin’ ya Sans, and you can just call me Red, ‘ight?”

“well, nice to meet ya then, red.” He extended his hand, and Red stared quizzically at the alien gesture. “what? don’t ya know how to greet a new pal?” Red personally thought a handshake was out of place and overly formal, but there was no harm in the gesture. Sans’ half-lidded gaze showed nothing of his intentions. Red took his hand and shook it, confusion written on his face...

Until he heard the familiar wheeze of a whoopie cushion erupt from their joint grip.

Suffice to say, Red laughed more that day than he had in his entire life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, If you find any errors in the fic, tell me. I'll probably go back over and make some edits later on tonight, try and make it less cringey and more organized. So, y'know, kindly tell me if there's a giant shit stain ruining my fic, yeah?
> 
> Also, I'm trying to think of a better title right now. But, honestly? I suck at titles and summaries. Sue me. If you can think of a better title, knock yourself out, I might use it.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed. This fic will update pretty often unless I give notice, but likely, the postings will be irregular. Chpt 2 will come out anytime between 1 Am tonight, and next Wednesday. Oops?
> 
> Well, toodles.


	2. Spaghetti with a Side of Sorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red really needed a smoke after all that happened today. After all, finding out your fucked with no way of getting home isn't very comforting, no matter which way you look at it.
> 
> But at the end of the day, he's got a roof to sleep under, shoulder to cry on, and a friend who's rootin' for him.
> 
> His life's a hell of a lot more complicated, but it's not all bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oi! Here's chapter 2, finally!
> 
> This one's a little longer and took a while to write and edit. If you can't tell, I still stuck at summaries and names. I probably should have split it into 2 chapters, but, eh. Enjoy!
> 
> P.S.  
> I've found that shoving as many puns as I can into each chapter is slowly becoming an addiction, so expect a skeleton of 'em.

Red sighed. How had he gotten both so lucky, and so totally screwed, on the same day?

He was propped against couch arm, drumming his phalanges on his ribs and staring at the ceiling, bored. Not long after he had been cut loose and given a nickname- He still thinks 'Red' is a dumb as fuck name, mind you- Sans had left him alone and run off to check on the bartender. Apparently, Grillby was opening two hours late because of him. Oops.

Red glanced around. Grillby's suite was boringly simple, yet intriguing in its own way. The walls were a dull grey color, and the entire floor was laid with old, oaken planks. Empty bookshelves littered the area, and you'd be hard-pressed not to notice the massive piles of books that sat neglected in random areas around the house. The clutter was at it's worst near the furniture and window sills. He didn’t expect this mess from a seemingly tidy guy like Grillby, but in its own way, the mess still looked well organized.

At some point, Red had tried to read from the pile closest to him, only to find it was written in a language he couldn't speak. Was that Spanish or French..? Whatever, he never had much of an interest in literature, anyways.

_  For a guy made of literal fucking fire, he keeps a lot of books. He must burn right through 'em...  _ Red thought to himself. He smirked at both his pun and the irony of the fire monster's bookkeeping. He couldn't help but wonder if his own Grillby was like this behind closed doors.

_  His Grillby _ . What is that even supposed to mean anymore? What is 'his Grillby,'? What the hell happened to him, or to the world around him? Was this some fucked up prank through space and time...? Could he be insane? Did the timelines somehow pass him by, and now he was returning to find the universe did a backflip, and he was replaced? Hell, is this even his universe? Is... Is this what it feels like to be shattered through time and space, maybe...? Questions buzzed through his head and announced the return of his throbbing headache.

He stared up at the ceiling, ceasing his tapping and resting his hands on his ribcage. Sans had ensured him they would start to talk about this mess out when he got back. This morning, he sparsely mentioned something about a 'theory,' before the subject had changed. Red couldn't help but wonder if Sans just pulled that out of his ass to try to comfort him. Like, 'hey, there's a reason the universe fucked you over and reality jumped out a window, so rest easy, buddy.' He groaned, and his fingers stopped their tapping to instead rest over his eyes.  _  Nothing makes sense.  _

Not even Sans made sense. Well, yeah, no shit, his existence didn't make a lick of sense, but Dear Asgore, neither did the guy's actions. He doesn’t seem like a dumb guy, but his actions make you wonder. For example: What do you do whenever a hungover guy from the dump impales your friend? Well, you sure as hell don't agree to swaddle the attacker in a blanket and heal him, but here we are. Geez, Sans must think he's Einstein for collabing on that genius solution. He's pretty sure it was mostly Grillby's doing, but, hell, maybe he’s more thick-skulled than he lets on.

Overlooking that, when said stranger wakes up- Well, most people have the common sense to kick ‘em out. Most people would not ignore the situation in favor of water puns. But, nope, for some reason, Sans brushed it off and didn't see a fishue in pouring puns over the situation instead.

Red groaned into his hands, his previously forgotten embarrassment flooding his cheeks. Sans had also kindly changed the subject and saved his ass over the stupid ‘touch’ thing earlier. Why?  _  Why is the bastard being so kind to me..?  _  He grumbled.  _  Shit, I'm overthinking this.  _ Considering it was a small, 5-second slip-up, Red couldn’t figure out why he was so worked up over it. Maybe it was just because it was piled onto all the other dumb crap he's done today.

He should get a damn medal for managing to fuck up his life so fast, honestly. He’s such a fuckin’ pro, he doesn’t even gotta try.

Red sat up whenever he heard the click of a door opening. Sans was back. He pushed intrusive thoughts to the back of his mind to dwell on later. After all, Sans apparently gots a 'theory' they need to get off their chest, and Red's eager to hear i- He paused. He sniffed the air, just to make sure he wasn’t crazy. Something was way off. He recognized that scent anywhere.  _  Is that fucking spaghetti I smell?  _

A moment later, Sans strode into the living room, a couple of bags loosely dangling from his arms. His coat was zipped up above his chin, and his cheeky grin peeked out from under the zipper. A blue blush tinted his face, and he was breathing heavily. Red could tell he had been out in the cold.  _  Wasn't he just gonna talk to Grillbz, though..? What's wit’ the bags..?  _

Sans gave him a small wave before unceremoniously dumping the supplies he brought on the coffee table. They looked heavy. Red leaned closer and eyed them curiously while Sans unzipped his coat and threw it in some vague direction, leaving him in a stained white tee. Compared to the harsh bite of Snowdin's weather, the stuffy, hot room probably felt like a hellhole to him.

"sorry, i was gone for so long. i was just gonna run home and grab some papers, but my bro caught me and bugged me over why i skipped sentry duty again-" Sans continued talking as he walked off into the kitchen to grab supplies. He probably didn’t realize Red couldn't hear him from the next room. Red was able to pick up what happened, though, so he let it slide. "-ead set on making some spaghetti for ya, so you'd feel better. so i had to wait on 'em and make sure he didn’t burn the house down while he tried to boil water. he was really intent on making it perfect for ya. isn't my bro the coolest?" Sans had returned with a pair of porcelain plates, and without any warning, he tossed Red his like a frisbee. Red's damningly fortunate he has quick reflexes.

"He sounds... nice. Stars, he’s nothin’ like m’ boss, that bastard’s never cooked me shit! Yer lucky, you gotta live-in cook." He chuckled dryly. “‘Ey, tell ‘em thanks for me whenever ya catch em, aight? This looks fuckin’ great! Boss’s spaghetti leftovers usually look like they’ve crossed a warzone ‘er two, so this’ll be a damn treat.” Red wasn’t lying when he said it looked good. From where he was sitting, he could somewhat see the spaghetti sticking out from one of the bags. Besides, he could genuinely compliment a rock for looking crunchy right now. Anything looks good whenever he hasn’t eaten in Asgore-knows-how-long.

“yeah, paps tries his best.” Red nearly choked on air.  _  Papyrus?  _ Holy shit, was he this guy’s brother, or...? Dear Asgore, is the universe trying to drive him insane with this shit? He honestly should have expected that Papyrus existed here, but for some reason, it just hasn’t crossed his mind. He also couldn’t imagine there could be a ‘kind’ version of Papyrus. One who cooks for hurt strangers.

"Wait... Paps? Boss? Wow... I'm surprised he let ya off so easy with the sentry duty thing. Co-Captains are usually pretty strict on that shit-"

"-woah, slow down buddy pal.. co-captain? did i hear that one right?" Sans had cut him off quick. He was staring at him incredulously, an uncertain half-grin on his face.

Red blinked. Well, Duh? What did Sans THINK he meant? Papyrus has been Co-Captain since they were teens. Did he think he was joking, or were things different here...? _ Screw it,  _ he thought. He wasn’t about to go through mental gymnastics in the middle of every damn conversation, so he just said what came to mind of his own brother. Maybe Sans’ was joking, or they were talking about…. Different ‘Russes?

"...Uh, yeah. Papyrus. LV 47, Co-Captain of the Royal Guard. Second only to Undyne." He hesitated whenever Sans' sockets went void. Maybe he should have kept his mouth shut after all. The way the other's gaze crossed him sent a chill down his spine. "S-Sorry, 'm I wrong? It different here?"

“i’ll set up the spaghetti. we need to have that chat over supper before this situation gets any more confusing.”  _ More confusing?  _ Red thought. This situation was convoluted enough as hell. How do you get ‘more confusing’ after sitting across from a clone of yourself? He was anxious to find out what the hell Sans might reveal to him, but as much as he wanted to have the answers to his questions, did he want to know the truth? Sans’ unsettling, eyeless gaze wasn’t really putting him at ease. Maybe it was better if he just stayed in ‘Grillbz’ apartment, telling shitty jokes and eating spaghetti with himself. Avoiding the hard questions, like ‘Do I have more screws loose than Mettaton?’ or ‘Sans, are you actually real?’ Hell. And here he thought that shithead child was a sign of him going insane.

Sans took a couple of minutes to dump the spaghetti on their plates-  _  Holy shit that looks goood  _ \- and soon, Sans was sat down on the couch with Red. He tossed a fork in his general direction.

_  What’s with this guy and throwing tableware?!  _ Red grumpily thought as he caught the fork that almost impaled his skull. Maybe Sans was a threat, after all. As he mused over the possibility that Sans could be plotting to kill him, he looked over to find his pal draping spaghetti noodles over his skull. Sans noticed his semi-dangerous distraction didn’t last as long as intended and quickly finished up his fashion-forward look by draping a blanket over his arms. He started flapping as if they were wings, much to Red’s confused amusement. Either he really lost it, or this is an elaborate joke. Maybe both. “guess you could call me…” Red raised an eyebrow. For the mess it caused, this better be a really fucking good one.

“the great flying spaghetti monster.”

_  Oh.  _

_  My Stars.  _

Red was never a romantic, but he could fucking  _ marry  _ Sans after that one. He had never seen someone put that much effort into a joke so shitty. After he stopped panting and howling like a deranged child, that is. Sans put in a valiant effort to not break up at his own joke, but after seeing Red’s very vocal reaction, he broke and doubled over with choked laughter. If there had been any tension in the room, Sans had sure as hell got rid of it.

After they both calmed down (somewhat), Red had helped Sans get the spaghetti off his head. Jeez, some even got stuck in his skull. They ended up tossing the ruined remains of the dirty joke into one of the bags he brought; they could always get rid of it later. Sans grinned up at him with a noodle sticking out of his socket for the majority of the time, which nearly threw Red back into the pit of laughter he had just climbed out of, multiple times. At some point, Sans had managed to tug the spaghetti out and throw it into the noodle bag, but it was fun while it lasted.

After Sans reluctantly agreed to actually  _ eat  _ the spaghetti this time, Red swiped their plates off the coffee table. After passing Sans’ his spaghetti, he finally sat down next to him and began eating. He almost forgot about the chat they were planning until Sans pulled a folder out of the other bag. Great.

“arrirfg, swo,” Sans started, his mouth full of spaghetti. Red snickered.

“Are ya tryin’a speak, or choke on a noodle?” Sans rolled his eyes and took the hint, finishing the mouthful and setting his plate down beside him. “sorry, didn’t realize i had a second brother to lecture me on manners,” he joked as he pulled out a handful of papers. This ‘chat’ already looked like a massive headache waiting to happen. At least Sans’ knew how to make it a bit more bearable (via puns, of course.)

“alright, so, as i was saying..”

Silence.

He saw the hesitation in Sans’s eyes as he shuffled through the papers aimlessly. _ Is... Is he actually fucking stalling right now?  _ Before he could interject, tell Sans it was fine, they could talk about this another time, Sans took a deep breath and looked Red in the eyes. Neither looked mentally prepared for this bullcrap. Nevertheless, Sans began his deep, dreadful explanation.

“for the past few weeks, I had been monitoring something called the, uh... time space continuum. fundamentally, the universal makeup of timelines and space. i started out with the help of the royal scientist after some of her initial reports had shown a massive anomaly had formulated. that incident’s a whole ‘nother can of worms and sciency bullshit, though, so all you need to know is that i was, uh, monitoring...” He paused to take another bite out of his spaghetti. Red was now staring at him intently, his attention unwavering. He hadn’t even touched his plate since Sans had started talking about time space. There was an odd look on his face, and Sans must have mistaken it as confusion. They were both already regretting this conversation. “now, look, i know that probably sounds like a lot of nerdy bullshit to you, but.. on tuesday, i came home after a hotland trip, and ended up detecting something… unusual.” Sans motioned for him to set his spaghetti down on the coffee table, and shoved a long strip of waxy paper into his grasp. Unbeknownst to Sans, It was a print out from a machine Red knew all too well. Even so, the readings confused him, and at first, he thought it had to be a glitched readout. Sans scooted closer, and started to point out the blemishes that covered large areas of the film. “you see those massive white streaks in the film..? y-yeah, those represent detected anomalies. except.. uh, those are anomalies that showed up once i accidentally misaligned my equipment and tested outside of the time space continuum. meaning, those anomalies are all showing up outside of the underground... the world, the... well...”

Sans stared at the papers laid out in front of him, thinking. He sighed and unceremoniously shoved his work back into the sleek folder, setting it under his plate to be forgotten. Once he turned back to Red, he shrugged, a strained smile crossing his face. “alright, enough of this bullshit. i need to stop avoiding the meat of the problem here. let me be frank.” Red had been silent the entire time, taking the overload of information hitting him like a tsunami. He thought Sans had been VERY clear with what he was trying to tell him. He wasn’t stupid, and he knew they had both come to the same conclusion. He knew what Sans was about to say to him, but he wanted to hear it for himself. Just to confirm that Sans was actually trying to propose this shit.

Dear Asgore, he was right about this conversation being a mistake.

Sans set a hand on his shoulder, and looked him dead in the eyes. “frankly…. i think that my reports are evidence of a complex multiverse. i also think that you may be living proof of a universal displacement error. to put it lightly..”

“this uh, isn't your universe, buddy.”

Red felt like the air had been ripped from his lungs. A bold statement, considering he didn’t even have lungs. He knew Sans was going to say that, but hearing it out loud was like being hit by lightning. It hurt much more than he thought. His eyelights were reduced to dim pinpricks. The words he was trying to form were caught in his throat, and he couldn’t figure out what he wanted to say. What the hell are you supposed to say to something like that?

 

 Red felt a sudden urge to run home. Burst out of Grillby’s, shove people down in the streets, and run to his home, to  _ his  _ brother. He was dying to feel  _ something  _ familiar. He never thought he would miss getting a new dent or crack in his skull at the whim of his brother’s cooking ladle. He was all too aware of how alien the world around him now seemed. He missed Papyrus’s brash yelling. He missed Grillby’s rough but pleasant company. Hell, he even missed the Great Door to the Ruins, where he told dirty jokes long into the night and gossiped about his brother’s misdeeds. Though he had suspicions, having them confirmed made everything much worse. It all made sense now; Grillby looked different because it  _ wasn’t his Grillby.  _  Papyrus was kind because it  _ wasn’t his Papyrus.  _  There was another version of himself because this  _ wasn’t his universe.  _

“hey, you okay?” Sans broke the deafening silence that had accumulated. Red didn’t even flinch.

“...”

“you want me to get you a cup of water..? or, maybe some more spaghetti? c’mon, don’t be upsetti, bud...” But his pun fell flat. Red chuckled, mostly because he couldn’t help but feel better from Sans’ efforts. But you could only be so “okay” after your worst fears are confirmed. There’s only so much you can take after being indirectly told your only family is probably light years away. Everything around him was new, and nothing could drag him back to the safety of his brother.

“hey, look at me,” Sans instructed. When Red didn’t look up, he didn’t push it. Instead, they slowly reached for the other’s hand and held it when they were sure Red wouldn’t jerk away. Whenever Red seemed to relax, he scooted closer to him and tightened the soft grip he had on his shoulder. Red’s defenses were crumbling, and his honest feelings were leaking through the cracks. His expression spoke volumes.

“you can stay with me and my bro for as long as you need. we-  _ i  _ will do everything in my power, and we  _ will  _ get you home. alright? you hear me? you’ll get home.” Red nodded, but his outlook was bleak. Sans hesitated, looking around the room, as if to find another way out of this. Finally, they sighed, closing their eyes.

“i promise.”

Red sat there for a couple of moments, eyes half closed as he tried to process Sans comforting words. He slowly nodded after a few minutes, and Sans exhaled. “Yeah. Sure, buddy... Thanks,” Red finally murmured. He pulled his hand away and looked to his abandoned plate. Sans understood, and backed off. Red needed to recompose himself, rebuild his barriers, and seal cracks in his defenses. It wasn’t mentally healthy, necessarily, to close yourself off like that, but who was Sans to stop him?

 

Especially when he did the exact same thing.

Right now, Red felt detached from his body, and everything was too surreal for him to react reasonably. So, he decided he wasn’t going to react at all. Sans probably didn’t even mean what he said. How could he get him back..? They both knew it was impossible. Him even being here was impossible.

Somewhere deep inside, though, he knew he was clinging to Sans’ promises like it was his lifeblood. Even if they were only empty lies made to comfort him, they were what he needed to hear. Something told him Sans was being genuine. That he wanted to help him. That he wasn’t lying to his face.

 

_ That he cared.  _

There’s no way to put it lightly. His universe was a hellhole of despair and pain most wise monsters wouldn’t seek out. But it was his. And if Sans’ was genuinely willing to help him... Well. He’ll pull himself together and do his best to stay out of Sans’s way.

\-----

Sans sighed, pulling a blanket over his friend. After they had finished eating (or, rather, him eating and Red dragging his fork across his food and quietly laughing at Sans’ shitty jokes), he and Red spent the next hour or so reading. He had suggested it, and Red muttered his agreeance without much coercion. 

 

Red fell asleep a couple of minutes after picking a book up. Probably because he was reading a Russian one, upside down.

Sans' couldn’t shake the feeling of sins crawling down his back. He fucked up badly. He shouldn’t have been so upfront about things. It was his fault Red took it so hard.

He couldn’t get it out of his head. Red looked lost, hurt, and confused; He looked like his entire world had shattered. Sans had only poured salt on the wound. He comforted Red after the fact, of course, and Sans could have sworn he saw a hopeful glint in Red’s eyes, maybe even the hint of a smile. In a blink of an eye, though, Red had shut himself off and become distant. He was masking his feelings in a blank, passive-aggressive stare, and Sans couldn't do much to comfort someone who was refusing to feel anything. Who was actively starting to ignore his jokes and only saying short answers as the evening drew on.

This morning, Red was a reserved monster Sans could share a good laugh with after their misunderstandings were out of the way. He was a defensive, self-sufficient monster who had no ill will, even if he was instinctively violent and passive-aggressive. Sans didn't know the guy too well, and he was sure there was a more expressive, explosive personality lurking under the surface that he’s only caught a glimpse of. But right now? He was distant. Empty. Sans knew he had to help Red get home, somehow. Red would recover from this state of closed-off depression eventually. Maybe even be able to manage life here, but really?

Sans made a promise. He didn’t break promises.

Sans shoved the technical implications of said promise from his head and focused on what he needed to do now. He had set down his book and decided he might as well start the dishes. After all, he was lazy, not a slob. Besides, it gave him time to think over everything he needed to get done tonight. After all, he did promise Red a place to stay. Once he finished cleaning up Grillbz place, he would have to talk to Paps, set up their home-  _  shit, where is he gonna sleep?  _ \- and get a small surprise he had in mind set up. The hard part was finding the time to do everything without cutting too many corners. He was hoping Red would like the surprise he was planning, especially since it was something he decided to do on a whim after their conversation. It was one of Sans's favorite spots, and he hoped it would lift Red’s spirits. He had roughly two hours until he had to wake Red up and get them home for dinner. Paps would be pretty mad if he was late, especially since he’s skipped dinner in favor of falling asleep at Grillbz like, what, three times this week?

He was a bit worried over how Red would act towards his brother, but he pushed it to the back of his head. It would... probably be fine. He had enough to worry about, anyways.

Sans reached for another dish, only to realize he had finished amid his thoughts. _ welp. 'ight as well pack up. start praying paps doesn't ask what the extra spaghetti noodles were for…  _ Sans grinned, thinking back to the elaborate joke. Would've been way funnier if Red hadn’t turned around. Now he’s faced with another issue: he’s not sure how he’s gonna explain the noods to Paps. After all, he could NEVER let Papyrus know about the Flying Spaghetti Monster. His brother would have a new religion asap, and he wasn't sure he could live in the same house as a dedicated pastafarian. He might even need to ask Red to keep the joke under the table just to play it safe.

It didn't take long to place all the dishes and trash back into bags and shrug on his jacket. He was about to pick up the bags and just leave before the apartment gave him a heat stroke, but he hesitated when he went to take a final glance at Red.  _ he might freak out if i don't leave a note,  _  Sans reasoned. He sighed and set his stuff down once more. After digging around in Grillby’s room for a couple minutes ( _ he probably won’t mind _ ), Sans found a packet of old green sticky notes and a half-empty pen on the cluttered desk, and leaned over to jot down a quick message for his lazy clone.

   * hey, im gonna b @paps fr a while. u hngry grillbz dwnstrs. got qs txt me thx

-sans 727-9787

Sans smiled at the scratchy text, feeling accomplished by his good deed. Even if it would probably go to waste. If Red were anything like his little brother, it would take him a couple hours to read this, much less decipher it. Looking at how unreadable most of his notes are, Sans long concluded Doctor's handwriting has to be a genetic trait. He was okay with it being this way, though; at least he tried to leave something to let Red know where he went, even if it was as readable as Greater Dog’s letters.

Sans stood up and strode out of the room, picking up the bags and gently pressing the sticky note to Red’s forehead. While he intended for him to see it, part of him hoped Red didn’t spot it and went around looking like a dumbass with a sticky note on his face for the rest of the day. It’s a bit on the mean side, but hey, a harmless prank never hurt anyone. Not like many people would see him, anyways. A glance at the clock, and Sans knew he needed to start skedaddling. He patted Red on the skull as a final goodbye, recieving what sounded like a hummed-growl. They smiled. With that, Sans stepped into the kitchen and disappeared without a trace.

\-----

A couple minutes later, Sans opened the front door, taking in the relaxing smell of freshly made spaghetti. Ah, supper. The opportune time to torture his sweet little brother with abominable puns. All in the name of uh, love or something, of course.

“hey bro, i’m home.”

“SANS! YOU HAVE BEEN GONE ALL DAY!” Papyrus came out of the kitchen as Sans shut the door. He abandoned his coat and bags on the ground nearby. The Great Papyrus was looking fashionable as always, of course. His bro was too cool to manage anything any less. Today, he was donning his usual scarf and the 'COOK BOY' sweater Sans had given him for Gyftmas. His outfit looked pretty normal today, actually.

….Or, he would say that, if it wasn’t for the painfully pink pair of MTT Brand booty shorts his brother confidently strutted around in. He loathed the fact that his brother had access to their joint credit cards, sometimes.

Papyrus looked worried about something, though, so he chose not to bring up the glittery abomination. “IS YOUR FRIEND OKAY NOW?” Papyrus finally asked when he had Sans’s somewhat-full attention.

“oh, he’s dine now paps. he was pretty rude to grillbz at first, but it’s all in the pasta. everything panned out well in the end.” He flopped down on the couch. Papyrus’s hold on the pan handle tightened. And, so it begins.

“SANS! WERE THOSE... PUNS? THREE, ALREADY?!” Papyrus starting to look annoyed. It proved to be more amusing than it was scary.

 

“whaaat? nah, bro, my pun making days are behind me. i’m a bavette now.” Papyrus’s eyes filled his sockets, and his eyebrows arched to comedic extents. Yup, he was angry. He put a hand to his hip, ignoring the pasta noodles that flew out as he held onto the ladle. “YOUR DEAR FRIEND’S HEALTH IS A VERY SERIOUS MATTER, SANS! THIS ISN’T THE TIME TO BE JOKING AROUND! WHERE IS HE? DID HE EAT HIS SPAGHETTI?!”

“aw, don’t be so salty, paps. he’s fine, just chillin over at grillbz. we just ate a little while ago.” Papyrus sighed, and Sans decided to continue his pun rampage. “oh, anelli forgot to tell ya, he may need to stay over a couple of days. that chill, broth-er?”

“...WELL, OF COURSE HE MAY STAY, BROTHER. I’M GLAD YOU ARE PUTTING EFFORT INTO SOMETHING FOR ONCE, THOUGH! SURELY IT MUST BE BECAUSE OF MY AMAZING INFLUENCE ON YOU, NYEH HEH HEH!” Sans nodded. His bro was the best.

“scialatelli-m to come over now? well, crumb to think of it, i should probably clean up first.”

Something registered in his little brother’s mind, and Papyrus’s head swung up. His entire stature screamed excitement.

“WAIT, DID YOU JUST SAY YOU’D... CLEAN? OH?? MY GOD?? DOES THIS MEAN YOU’LL FINALLY PICK UP YOUR SOCK?! PLEASE?” It took everything Sans had not to burst out laughing, or worst yet, give in and let his precious sock tradition die. He kept his composure, and just shrugged. “i already picked it up. you told me not to bring it back to my room.”

“UGH! FORGET IT!” Papyrus threw his hands up in exasperation and sent the spaghetti ladle flying into the air. Sans quickly lifted his hand and forced it to hover, barely stopping it from crashing into the TV.

“SANS, PUT THAT DOWN! NO MAGIC IN THE HOUSE, HAVE MANORS!”

“ok.”

Sans dropped the ladle. It scratched the tv and got spaghetti sauce everywhere, but, hey. Bro’s orders.

“NOT LIKE THAT! PUT IT DOWN GENTLY!”

“ok.”

Sans picked it up, again, and very lovingly tried to put it down next to the giant mess it made. Papyrus snatched it from the air and shoved it back into the pot before he could do more. “GO! CLEAN! NOW!” He ordered, stomping off into the kitchen. Sans snickered. His bro was the coolest. You could say he... adoughed him.

 

\-----

Red sighed. He's never getting up from this. For once in his life, he woke up on something other than a countertop, concrete, or a trash can. For once, he felt warm, and even safe. Red couldn’t even be arsed to check where he was while he was in this dreamy, half-asleep state, and he honestly didn’t care. It was quiet, and that’s all he needed to dismiss his worries. Whatever he was on was extremely comfortable, and not worth leaving for the world. Fuck the world. This-  _  Blanket?  _ Whatever this is, was all he needed right now. He turned onto his side to snuggle into the soft embrace better, but stopped when he heard a sudden crinkling unsettlingly close to his skull. His eyes shot open, his magic flared, and he lost control over what he did next.

After he caught his breath and regained his mindful composure enough to process what had happened, he realized he was on the floor of Grillby’s apartment. He grumbled, got up, and examined the extensive damage he caused. Large, dense bones struck through the floorboards and wrecked the couch. The coffee table was knocked over, he's pretty sure one of the 'asters shot him in the foot, and he didn't know how the hell he shredded blankets so severely. He must have struggled and summoned a dagger.  _  Uh, oops.  _

Red noticed something green within the mess, tucked within the remains of the cushions. He groaned. It was a crumpled note. Sans must have left it, and that must have been the crinkling he freaked out over. Greeeat.

 

On top of that, now the note was shredded. Red tried his best to read it as is. He marveled at how neat the handwriting was (at least compared to his own.)

   * hey, im gonna b                             u hngry grillbz dwnstrs. t qs txt me thx

-sa

Red set the note down on the coffee table. Or, what remained of it, anyways. He was able to deduce Sans probably went out to get something and would be back way later, but he couldn’t figure out what Sans meant by ‘text me.' He doesn’t have the guy’s number, after all! What’s he gonna do, call everyone in the Underground sequentially until he gets ahold of Sans? Only Boss can pull that off without pissing people off.  _  Wait, Sans told me it sometime this morning, didn’t he..? Damn, did he really expect me to remember that far back..?  _

Ugh, screw it. He’ll just get it from Grillby. They seem close, he’s bound to have his number. Red sighed. Some grub and a walk would do him good. He really needed a smoke right now, so Red’s thankful he stole some of Boss’s cigs before he left. He picked his wrinkled jacket from the ground, looking for the pack. He began to freak out whenever he couldn’t find them. Surely they wouldn’t steal his shit, right…?

He muttered blessings whenever he found them on the coffee table, along with most everything else. They must have emptied out his pockets, which isn’t too unreasonable since he fucking stabbed the bartender. If he could get past his guilt, Red would have been pretty impressed with that attack. It was a good shot, honestly. If he was in his own universe, something like that could have saved his life, and maybe even got him a level or two as a fun bonus.

“Alright, lezzee... Phone, zippo, cigs, blades, wraps...” Red shuffled through the stuff on the table. Everything was unceremoniously dumped into his pockets after he determined most of his shit was there. Two of his blades were gone, but for now, he had everything he needed to survive, at least. He headed to the front door, more than ready to leave the stuffy apartment. He contemplated leaving his host a note, but, hell, he’d have the guy’s number in a couple minutes, right? He’s just going for a walk. So, out the door he went.

Red didn’t make a sound as he crept down the staircase, a skill he’s picked up from years of living with a sadistic Edgelord.  _ God, it’s even hotter down here,  _  he thought as he neared the kitchen. The soft crackle of flames alerted him to Grillby’s presence, and he peeked in to find he was cooking. He should have figured that. _ He's only using one hand,  _ he grimly noted as he examined the wound from afar. A pang of guilt rippled through him.

_  He looks busy. Maybe I shouldn’t-  _ The bartender turned around to grab something, and spotted Red by dumb luck. He gestured him over.  _ Fuck,”  _ Red muttered as he crept from the shadows and cautiously entered the kitchen. Grillby had gone back to his work, and Red stood there, nervously fiddling with his zipper and waiting for the bartender to speak.

“...... You and Sans have a knack for being elusive,” Grillby finally said, “I didn’t notice you at first.”

Red chuckled nervously. “Eheh, guess that’s my claim to  _ flame _ .” The bartender groaned. “......Will I now be subject to your flame-based puns as well? One Sans is enough of a headache on his own.” Red relaxed against one of the counters with his arms lazily crossed. “Wow, you sound like you have a bit of a love-heat relationship. What’s so bad about more puns, eh? You can never have too match of a good thing. Or can you not take the heat?”

Grillby glared at him, but Red could see his poorly-concealed amusement under the fake-annoyance. His reactions weren’t as addictive as Sans’ hearty laughs, but hot-shot was still a great audience by his standards. “Hey, why the steely-eyed blaze, bud? Wood ya wan’ me ta stop? Well, soot yourself.” Grillby chuckled, and a toothy grin spread across Red’s face. “Eh? Wow, guess my puns aren’t as bad as they steam.” The chef shook his head, but Red could tell he was smiling.

 

Red’s stretched and lazily ported to a counter close to the cook to sit. Grillby didn’t notice it at first. Whenever he did, though, his reaction was subtle but less than stellar. His flames jumped, and he gripped his knife ever-so-slightly firmer. Red grimaced. Grillby was definitely wary of him, even if he hid it well. Red couldn’t blame him, though. He had the right to be on edge after this morning's fiasco. Now was as good a time as any for an apology.

“‘Ey, uh, not to change the subject, but... Sorry ‘bout the arm. Really. Uh... I suck ass at healin’, but if you need...” Grillby waved his hand in dismissal, and he trailed off. “... I shouldn’t have come as close as I did. I’ll visit a healer after we close.” Red scratched the back of his head and looked off. Guilt was scrawled across his face. “Nah, don’t beat ya’self up over it, Grillbz. I was bein’ an asshole, you were just tryin' to help me, y’know?”

Grillby frowned. “.............You told me to back away, I failed to heed the warning. Do not apologize. You had reason to feel threatened.” Red nodded. He still disagreed, of course, but there was no use arguing with him. Especially while he was busy working. “...Alright.”

There was a moment’s silence, and Red decided to check his phone. He hadn't used it at all today. It was nonsensical, but he frowned at the lack of missed calls. The connection would obviously be severed between universes, but it still bothered him that he had 0 Missed Calls from ‘Boss.’ It really reminded him of the severity of his situation. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he physically jumped when Grillby started speaking again. He didn’t take him as much for conversation.

“.... May I ask why you came downstairs?”  _  Oh. Oh yeah.  _ He needed Sans’ number and some food, he completely forgot. Maybe Grillby even had the rest of his stuff. He winced. He might also want to tell Grillby about the mess of bones and splintered floorboards upstairs.

“Heh, oh yeah, I was gonna ask... Ya got Sans’ number? ‘M going fer a walk, thought it’d be a good idea to be able to call him if I needed to. He told me this mornin’, I think, but I already forgot.” Grillby nodded. “...His number? Papyrus.”

Red blinked. “Uh...? I asked for his number, bud... Ya got an ember loose or somethin’..?” Grillby crackled, clearly humored by the jab. “.......Forgive me, for I should have elaborated. It’s 727-9787. PAP-YRUS, on the keypad. His number is easy to remember.” Red smirked. Stars, Sans is predictable. Of course, he would have that as his number. 

 

...Geez, he must really love his bro, huh? “‘Ight, thanks, Grillbz. If you’re not too busy, mind gettin' me some scorch and... Uh, got any mustard?” Grillby nodded, seemingly missing the pun. Aw, that was his best one yet. For some reason, he didn’t seem surprised by his request for mustard, though. Maybe Sans drinks it too…?

Grillby bent down and reached deep into the cabinets, rummaging around for a good couple of minutes. Finally, his hand came back with a bottle of the yellow gold, and it was tossed to him. It was the real good shit, Moutarde Royale. Red’s mouth watered, finding a bottle of that was nearly impossible. He’s seen three full ones within his entire life, and Boss had found a half-full one for his birthday years ago. Red didn’t have the words to thank him without sounding like a dumbass, so he kept his mouth shut and gave him a thumbs up. “....I’m afraid Sans’ prefers ketchup, so I don’t have a large stock of mustard. That bottle is all I can afford to give you.” Red nodded. It was good enough to have one bottle of this divine substance.

“......And, I’ll get your ‘scorch’ when I head out into the bar.” Grillby winked, and Red snorted. So he did notice.

After Grillby finished with the dish he was cooking, he grabbed a bag of dog food and walked out into the bar. Red sipped on his mustard while he waited. He glanced down at the cabinet the fire elemental neglected to close, unsurprised that there was a large stock of red condiments.  _  Huh. Ketchup.  _ If Sans drank it as often as Grillby implies, it can’t be that bad. He considered trying it. Maybe adding a little mustard would make it taste alright. 

 

Kustard sounds like it’d be some pretty good shit, after all.

When Grillby came back, he tossed Red a flask. He figured it was full of scotch, and he quickly stashed it in his coat. His Grillby would never let him get tipsy, for his own safety, so getting a whole flask of scotch was a miracle. This universe sure as hell had its perks. He gave him a thumbs-up, and Grillby resumed his work.

“...How much of a mess did you make upstairs, by the way? I heard a crash.” Red froze. He was a horrible liar, so this wasn't gonna go well for him. “Ah, u-uh, it's chill, I mean, it already was kind of a mess, y’know... Y-Ya really are a book warm, aren’t ya..?” He was praying puns would save his ass, but Grillby noticed Red's change in demeanor and halted what he was doing, looking Red dead in the eye. “.............. What did you do, Red?” He shrugged. His nerves were not making him very believable right now. “Who said I did anything? W-Wow, no need for the Coal’d look, buddy, i-it’s all fixable.” Red’s eyelights darted around the room. He needed out, now. He pulled out his phone and pretended to check it.

“W-Wow, would ya look at the time-”

“...Red.”

“Didn’t realize it was getting so light-”

“..."

"..."

"..."

"...Red.”

“Oil be back, cya Grillbz-” Red blurted out. He hopped off the counter and started speed walking towards the door. Grillby called after him, setting his work down and jogging after him.

“Red! Red! Ugh, Sans! Wait! I’m not mad, I promise-” The rattled skeleton skidded around the corner, but when Grillby turned into the hall, he found Red had disappeared. Of course, without a trace. Grillby stared into the empty hallway for a couple of minutes, silent. He began chuckling and shaking his head, returning to his work. “....He’s definitely a second Sans..”

\-----

Red sat down inside the sentry booth, at last finding a fit spot for a smoke break. _ Geez, why was it so hard to find some damn peace and quiet in this universe?!  _ Even the forests were teeming with all sorts of oddball monsters.  _  At least my world has a decent solution for overpopulation _ , Red couldn’t help but think. He felt guilty for even thinking it, but it was the cruel truth. He could only imagine how crowded the capital must be if this was the state of Snowdin.

He flipped open his lighter and shielded the flame from the wind as he lit the cigarette crushed between his teeth. At least it was quiet out here. He almost had to come all the way out to the Ruins just to get some privacy. The walk was worth it, though. It was nice out here.

He glanced under the counter. Bottles of ketchup, mustard, and relish were inside. This was definitely Sans’ station. Red quickly decided it would be best to relieve him of his burdensome mustard collection. Y’know, make some more room for his ketchup. Or something. After he finished stashing the cheap condiments in his coat, he sat back with the gourmet one he had open from earlier and opted to finish it instead of his cig.

He took out his phone while he sipped away. He had nothing else to do, so bothering Sans seemed like the obvious option. He got his number for a reason, after all.  _  Pap-yrus, huh?  _ He punched the digits into his phone and hit “new message.” He wondered if Sans would ll figure out who he’s texting just based off their puns. Probably.

///New Conversation with funny bones///

* sup albert spinestein

srry who ru *

*take a guess bud

idk u tell me *

whos the boney to my clyde *

uh *

hm *

fsh lips? srry ths aint sans new phone who *

dis     


* try again, b. damn, am i not bein’ obvious enough?

hints *

now *

Sans rested his cheek against his palm and huffed. He had just finished cleaning his room and were sitting back on their bed. He was about to go get Red, up until his phone popped up with a new mystery message. He decided he had the time to check it. And now, he couldn’t figure out who was sending him these cryptic messages for the life of him. He had already marked Papyrus and Alp off the list, for obvious reasons. So, who was left..? Maybe Undyne, she sometimes entertains puns. It's also possible the oddball Snowdrake from the resort is stalking him. His phone lit up with a new message.

* hm. alright.

* hint one: tibia honest, i’m not so great at givin’ tips.

’m just not skullful at it. hopefully, you’ll be able to read

through the lines. i’ll give ya a femur minutes.

oh *

my god *

* need another, funny bone?

i’ll take ur whole stock *

* well, ulna’t stop then. ‘m p humerous, eh? only the best for my best carpal.

marry me *

* i’d say you got a marrow chance at that, bud. how ‘bout ya be my best vertabruh instead?

is it bc i always got ur back? *

* ....

* red.exe has stopped working. please hold to re-bone the program.

Red.exe really did stop working. His face was beaming crimson, and he was trying not to curl over the counter and laugh his ass off. He was not expecting his own joke to be used against him so perfectly. Thank Stars he decided to seek out solitude. No doubt, he would get weird looks if he was in this state in public. Choking back laughter and grinning like a maniac over a shitty pun isn’t really the status quo. 

 

That bastard was probably getting ready to ambush him with more of his bad jokes now. His nonexistent lungs were not going to survive this, Dear Asgore. His screen lit up again.

 get off ur hyoid horse. i can tell sum good *

1s too yknow  

 that’s just the honest tooth *

 i mean if u can’t stop em u might as well *

joint them  

u haven’t answered in a while u jaw ur last *

breath      


* are you spine on me?

nah, u just usually answer ur *

cellbone more often      


* stop

* you're looking these up i can tell

wym *

i was bone to make these *

puns

don’t sell me  _ short * _

 what, am i not tickling ur *

funny bone? maybe my humor’s  

a little too hip fr u  

ur not answering agn *

rip *

rest in puns *

Sans grinned. He knew he had to be breaking Red right now. His answers were getting slower, and Sans' replies sure weren’t getting any faster. Serves him right, considering he had Sans laughing hard enough to genuinely worry Papyrus just minutes ago.

Something about the thought of making Red curl over with bone-shaking laughter made him smile. Not his permanent, unchanging smile, but something genuine. Making Red laugh is both sweet revenge, and something he found he loves doing.

It’s nice to finally have an audience like him, after all.

He glanced up at the time. Shit. Papyrus always had dinner ready at 9 sharp, and it was already 8:56. He might have to port them home, at this rate.

yo, i’m comin by to get ya * 

paps has dinner ready @ 9 daily so we *

might b l8      


Sans was about to port off, but thankfully, he checked Red’s reply first.

* about that

* i’m kinda not there?

 where u @ m8 *

*snowdin forest

 . *

 wat *

* took a walk, sorry

* thought i’d get back in time, honest.

 whatev, i’ll be there in a flash, *

where @?      


*station near door.

 on my way *

After Sans's last message came through, Red slumped back.  _  Is he mad at me..? Shit, I fucked up.  _  He sounded pretty annoyed, based on his texts. Whatever. Red sat back up, anxiously tapping on the table. Maybe Red shouldn’t have left so suddenly without notice, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. The walk really did do him good. He felt better, and his mind was clear now, unlike a couple hours ago. Stars, he was being an asswipe earlier. He needed to remember to apologize for that.

Red huffed and glanced over towards the Ruins’ door. Annoyance and anxiety was slowly setting in. Shortcuts don’t take that long, and he was suggesting Sans had control over them as well. Where...?

Before he could finish his thought, two boney hands gripped at his ribs and shoved him forward gently. A nondescript, deep voice behind him spoke:

"b o o ."

Red panicked and an army of bones sprung from the ground as he slashed the now-empty area behind him. He sloppily performed his most potent attack, magic crackling through the air as he aggressively and blindly attacked the world around him.

Blaster’s spawned on the ground near to him, aim ready. Once the snow settled again, his eyes combed the area around him. He stepped over the now-splintered sentry station. He was on edge, and his eye was unstably flashing between shades of red and purple, the other socket void. The skeleton's breath was ragged, both from shock, and the exhausting amount of magic he just expended. A growl erupted from the back of his throat. He bared his teeth, his glowing eye illuminating his golden fang and making the threatening, dagger-like extension impossible to ignore.

“uh. remind me not to try and prank you again. jeez..”

He jerked around to the sound of Sans’ voice. He was still incredibly tense and had little control over himself and his actions, but at least he had the sense to not attack him on sight.

Sans was standing on the remains of his sentry station, Red’s attack’s piercing through the snow around him. He looked visibly shaken and defensively put his hands up whenever Red turned to face him. “h-hey! it’s just me! sans, remember…? b-buddy..? uh... i probably shouldn’t have tried to scare ya, heh. s-sorry, bud?” Red stared at him coldly for a couple of minutes. His teeth were bared, and his hood made him look much larger than he really was. The blood-red flash of his eye sent a shiver down Sans’s spine when paired with the rest of the disturbing imagery. He looked like a rabid wild animal, and the wolf-like blaster’s formed around him wasn’t helping his case.

“red...?”

Red finally snapped out of it. He cautiously deformed most of his attacks and jerked off his hood, trying his best to look less threatening. If Sans' reaction was anything to go by, he was terrifying. His eye still flashed menacingly, and probably would for the next couple of minutes, but there was little he could do about that. He gave Sans a reassuring half-grin, and his friend seemed to relax a bit. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks for the surprise, asshole,” He said with a tone seething with both annoyance and slight playfulness. He was trying his best to stay calm and not scare the shit out of his newfound friend any more than he already has. He kicked snow onto Sans’ slipper. Sans finally raised a nervous grin, deeming it safe to step closer. His eye lights were dim, and he still looked like he pissed himself from fear, though.

“Uh, sorry 'bout destroying yer booth...” Red muttered, stepping over to observe the damage with his counterpart.

“that’s, uh, pretty broken,” Sans said quietly. _ That was nearly me, _ Was what almost slipped out of his mouth, though. Red must have noticed he was still pretty tense. He shoved him playfully. “Ah, lighten up, ya numbskull!” Sans reflexively caught himself on Red’s jacket, and Red took that opportunity to throw an arm around his shoulder and pat him on the back. Sans forced himself to relax, internally struggling to convince his instincts that he wasn’t about to be murdered.  _ At least Red was in better spirits _ , he noted.

“Uh, ‘Tis 9:10, by the way, shouldn’t we be going ‘ta yer place?” Sans jolted. He had totally forgotten. He'd come here to pick up Red at 8:58. “oh yeah! shit, paps is gonna be so mad-” Red chuckled and patted his shoulder, slipping his arm away and shoving his hands in his pockets. “It’ll be fine, ‘m sure. Your bro sounds like a pretty chill guy.” Sans nodded and gripped the inside of his pockets. “yeah. yeah, he’s a pretty cool dude.”

“Can’t wait to meet ‘em,” Red said with slight enthusiasm and a tinge of nervousness.

“you’ll love em. trust me, by the end of the night, your adoration for the guy’ll run bone-deep.” Sans winked, and he guffawed. The incident that had just occurred already seemed to be water under the bridge, to their shared relief.

Red held onto Sans’ jacket as they ported off. They arrived outside of Sans' house, on the top step. The old boards of the stairs creaked under the sudden pressure. Sans opened the door, and Red welcomed himself inside.

Sans turned to the door and looked out. It was a beautiful day outside. Birds were singing, flowers were blooming, and the snow was falling gently onto the recently shoveled ground. He took one more breath of fresh air, then slammed the door behind him, banishing the harsh bite of Snowdin.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tl;dr: The chapter where Red trashes Grillby's, goes for a smoke, then nearly kills his future husband. The end thANKS-
> 
> Sorry this chapters a bit late, by the way. I finished it last Thursday night, but something I love doing is re-editting and redoing the chapters until I'm red in the face and my hands hurt. Welcome to anxiety.
> 
> If you found an issue between this and the first chapter, tell me and I'll do my best to fix it up. Or, if you don't like it, I'd very genuinely love to know why so I can improve in the future. Mostly, this story exists because I love writing and Kustard is one of my favorite ships. But, I'm also trying to become a better writer with this too, since it's one of my first books. Feedback would really help improve future chapters. So, yeah. Once again, please tell me about any grammar issues, inconsistencies, or other shitstains plaguing my work. Next chapter'll be out within the next week.
> 
> You guys are great, stay safe and cya. Chapter 3's in the works!


	3. Echo Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the first time in a long time, Red had a loving home, the promise of three meals a day, and a shithead friend to joke around with.
> 
> Even so, he can't understand why any of this is happening to him. Why Sans is being so nice to him. Why Papyrus cares. Why any of this makes sense. He can't bring himself to complain, but he can't bring himself to comprehend it, either.
> 
> Life's complicated as hell now. But, at least he has a friend that's willing to put up with him while he sorts things out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sup! This is a pretty late chapter, I know. But, I've been busy, and I suck at editing without going back 11 times to redo things. Sorry. Anywho! Hope you guys enjoy! I'm starting the next chapter soon!
> 
> (P.S, I'm considering making a Tumblr and posting some comics and stuff on there. Kustard and stuff connected to this story'll be there, but really it'd be a wild mix of shit from every possible ship in this damn fandom because I'm a multishipper that's imploding with bad life choices and too many ships with sNAS-) 
> 
> (In conclusion, I'll probably mention it if I actually go through with this. Enjoy.)

Sans isn’t perfect. He has flaws, he’s had lapses in judgment, and he occassionally makes not-so-great decisions, just like everyone else.

Well, If 27 missed calls from Grillby were anything to go by, leaving Red alone was probably one of his not-so-great decisions _. i’ll call him back later. _ He thought to himself.  _ what's the worst a 1 hp, sleep-deprived monster could do in the three hours i was gone? _ Sans dismissed the notification, instead opting to text Alphys. He’d meant to text her as soon as they were home, but he blinked out on the couch once his brother finished giving him a lecture. Thankfully, though, Papyrus wasn’t too mad. The patch of spaghetti he was cooking earlier was for Undyne, and he had forgotten to start dinner.

///New Conversation with weeb///

* u free this wknd

* smth big happened, we need to talk

* can u move the mmkk3 d8 to sat, we needa talk abt this soon

* it has to do with the readings, alp.

“SAAANS! CAN I USE YOUR PHONE? I... I DROPPED MINE IN THE PASTA AGAIN.”

Sans tilted his head back and groaned. From across the couch, Red snickered and nudged him. “Yer bro’s callin’. Hope y'know ya phone gots a snowball’s chance in hell.” He snarkily announced. Sans nodded. Little did Red know, he had a foolproof plan to save his phone that's worked every time he's tried it. Turns out, if he pretends he's asleep, his bro doesn't ask again, and his phone stays safe. Though sparsely used, it was a trick that always worked. Papyrus would march in, mutter about him being a lazybones, and let him sleep until supper was ready. He decided it would be a good trick to use today.

Sans closed his eyes and curled into the blankets. He even dimmed his eyelights and fell limp. He was confident in his plan would work, like always.

Well, up until Red not-so-gently kicked him in the shin. “Ain'tcha gon’ answer yer bo-bro? God, yer lazier than me.” He teased, speaking loud and slow enough for Papyrus to know Sans was awake. Then, and only then, did Sans lazily shift off the couch to stand, swaying sleepily and flashing a glare. It’s more than likely Red knew what he was trying to do from experience and wanted to be an ass. The numbskull gave him an innocent look and pointed towards the kitchen.  _ this asshole knows what’s gonna happen. _

Sans made sure to swipe off of Alph’s convo and open Papyrus’s cooking app. Whenever he walked into the kitchen, he saw this brother standing over the cutting board, humming a tune he caught in Waterfall last week. Chopping up herbs and preparing spices for the steaming hot spaghetti still boiling to his left, Papyrus always worked like clockwork.  _ looks like he still hasn’t made the sauce. he probs needs the recipe.  _ Sans noted with dread.

Well, last time Paps dropped his phone in the sauce, the damage wasn’t too bad. It only took Sans 3 days to fix it.

“sure, bro. careful with mine, though...” His brother turned around, his smile already starting to falter. He knew the tone Sans was using too well.

 

“it costs a pretty penne.”

Sans gently placed the phone on the counter next to his now very, very angry brother. Red was chuckling in the distance, and Papyrus was resisting the urge to chase Sans out. It was proper host etiquette not to be rude whenever the guests were present, though, and Papyrus knew this. Which really only made Sans more keen on teasing him in any way possible.

It was almost a game to try and get Paps angry whenever they had guests, and Sans often took any risks necessary to win. So, after making sure his brother had his eyes on him, Sans flashed a peace symbol, lost his balance, and let himself start to free fall towards the floor, to the instant distress of his brother. He cracked his skull the past two times he’s tried this trick, so maybe his bro had cause for concern, but it was still a great way to trousle his bones. Sans knew they were going to be pissed after this, regardless of if he aced it or not. He focused his magic and ripped a shortcut open last second before his skull hit the ground. He landed on the couch with a loud ‘POOF.’ He heard his brother yelling in the kitchen. He had officially managed to jape The Great Papyrus. Score.

\---

One more lecture and 30 minutes later, Red was grinning at him from across the couch. Papyrus had stomped away, ranting to himself about his ‘numbskull of a brother.’ “Ya gotta teach me how to do that,” Red finally murmured after he was certain Papyrus was out of earshot. “teach ya? eh, depends. it’ll cost ya, but it’s only 10 g.”

  
  


* Sans is offering to teach you the world's worst party trick.

Pay 10 g to increase your Stupidity?

* Pay * No

  
  


Red grumbled and agreed. Sans’ grin got wider, and Red knew something was up.

  
  


“did i say 10 g? i meant 50 g.”

* Pay * No

  
  


Red shot him a glare, but once again agreed to pay. It was a great party trick, sure, but Red knew he could use it for a lot of other things as well. Including, but not limited to, scaring the shit out of his boss. That trick, plus grey sugar, would make for one helluva prank.

  
  


"wait, really? alright, 5,000 g, final offer."

* Pay * No

  
  


It finally clicked with Red that this was a joke. He chuckled, very confidently nodding in agreement. Sans grin faltered, and he looked at Red like he’d grown a second head. He had searched Red’s coat himself. There was no way he had 5,000. Red winked, and Sans shrugged.

"aight, pay up. i'll teach ya after dinner.” For a moment, Red seemed slightly distressed.  _ Is this actually a joke? _ Sans had wiped the amusement off his face and was staring at him expectantly. He held his hand out to Red. "well?" Red smiled at him warily and handed him all he had. Sans glanced at the 89 g, seemingly unsurprised.

"you don't have the money?" Red nodded and scratched the back of his head. He was sweating bullets now that he realized it may not be a joke.

Suddenly, Sans brightened up and cracked a grin, and Red realized he’d been got. He should have known it was a damn joke. Sans offered him his money, and he snatched it back. "well, that's great. because i have no clue how to do that trick. that’s the 4th time i’ve got it to work."

Red cackled. "Damn, ya sure as hell got me there! Ya made me think you were serious 'bout the 5,000 g fer a moment!" Sans shrugged. "trust me, if i could actually teach ya something that cool, you better believe it would have cost you that much."

"Yeah, yeah, sure it would, ya ass. Ey, wait… You said you fail it all th' time. How'd you do it just now?..." Red questioned.

"hey, i only fail 90% of the time! 10% of the time i actually make it." Red chuckled. Chances are, Sans knew how to do it and just wanted to be an ass about teaching him. He couldn't afford the hefty price tag, though, so he would let it slide.

"SANS! NOT-SANS! DINNER IS READY!" Papyrus boomed. He was standing in the doorway, beaming with excitement and holding up the steaming pot, as if to prove it to them. Looking at his bro in the doorway, Sans was reminded just how thankful he was that Paps agreed to take off the booty shorts before Red got here. He was still in MTT brand Extra-Skinny Jeans, though, so it was a mixed blessing.

 

Red was the first to dart off the couch. His grin was spanning wide across his face, and he paid a glance back at Sans, unable to hide his glee. He looked a bit over-excited for a guy just getting dinner, but he reasoned Red must have been hungry. “Grub’s ready! C'mon, whatcha waitin’ on?” The edgy skeleton yipped. He gripped Sans by the arm and jerked him to stand. Sans was taken aback and found his eye flashing, albeit briefly. Red seemed to either not notice his sour reaction, or not care.

"oi, a bit of warning next time you decide to do that, bud,” Sans grumbled. Nevertheless, he let himself be led into the kitchen by their ecstatic guest. Papyrus was pouring generous amounts of his cooking onto their plates, and Red was staring at his dish eagerly. Papyrus must have noticed, because he poured almost double onto Red's plate.

Something was off with Red, though. Sans noticed he didn’t sit down, instead opting to stand back and wait while Papyrus set out tableware and napkins. Sans jerked his sleeve away, still a bit salty about being dragged to the table like a ragdoll. Red stared at him dubiously whenever he sat down at the table, like he was the crazy one for acting like a normal person. Red seemed to take a moment to contemplate something before finally taking his seat.  _ did red think he couldn’t sit..?  _ Sans studied Red carefully. He looked slightly paranoid and had his hands folded neatly in his lap. His posture was still lazily characteristic of him, but they were sitting straighter than before. A small chill ran up his spine whenever he discovered Red was sneaking odd glances at Papyrus as he put away the rest of the spaghetti noodles and leftover sauce.  _ is he..? _

They snapped their gaze away. They weren’t going to pry into what wasn’t their business. Sans ain't wired like that. But, despite everything, he was having second thoughts on sending Red home to his universe. If he was this scared of his Papyrus, who's never laid a hand on him...

He just wasn’t sure he wanted to send his newfound friend back to a potentially abusive LV 47 murderer.

Finally, his brother returned to the table, sitting down and giving Red a heartfelt smile. Red lightened up, and Sans let out a sigh of relief. “OTHER-SANS! IT IS A JOY TO HAVE SUCH A WONDERFUL HOUSE GUEST! I HOPE YOU ENJOYED BEING HERE SO FAR, EVEN IF MY INSUFFERABLE BROTHER HAS PLAGUED YOUR TIME WITH HIS DESPICABLE BANTER! I HOPE YOU ENJOY THE SPAGHETTI! THOUGH, HOW COULD YOU NOT WITH A CHEF AS GREAT AS ME?” Red was grinning ear to ear, listening intently to Papyrus as he rambled on about a multitude of topics, from training with Undyne to Sans’s sock collection. Sans was already bored with the conversation and opted to shovel spaghetti into his mouth instead.

“...AND THAT IS MY MASTERFUL PLOT TO FINALLY CAPTURE A HUMAN! NYEH HEH HE- SANS! YOU’VE ALREADY STARTED EATING?! HM... EAGER TO TASTE MY WONDERFUL COOKING, EH? IT IS RUDE, BUT I SHALL LET IT PASS, DEAR BROTHER…” Sans winked, and Papyrus huffed. His brother then turned to Red, dramatically motioning to the spaghetti on his plate. “GUEST! YOU SHOULD TRY THE SPAGHETTI! BEFORE! IT! GETS! COLD! AS GREAT AS I AM AT TALKING, DO NOT LET MY CUNNING CONVERSATIONAL SKILLS PREVENT YOU FROM TRYING MY WONDERFUL COOKING! NYEH HEH HEH!”

Red glanced down at the heapings of spaghetti on his plate, promptly reminded of how hungry he was. _ Jeez, this looks better than the stuff Sans brought... _ He thought, as he picked through and struggled to wrap noodles on his fork. Red realized after a moment that Papyrus was on the edge of his seat watching him, eagerly waiting for him to eat. He hurried to press the food against his teeth. It disintegrated into magic on impact, and the flavor hit him like a sledgehammer. His eyes lit up.

The taste was… Indescribable.

“S-SO? DO YOU LIKE IT?” Papyrus timidly asked, tapping his fingers together and beginning to sweat. Usually, Sans would glare down and silently threaten house guests that tried his brother’s cooking. He couldn’t risk shattering his bro’s self worth over something like pasta. But, honestly? Their guest seemed absolutely astounded by the taste. In a good way, this time.

“H-Holy shiii-” Sans kicked him under the table, and Red winced in pain. He sputtered out his next words, and took care not to cuss this time. With Sans’s help. “It was fu-freakin’ amazing! Holy h-geez- It’s f-f-fu- great!”

Papyrus’s smile faltered. His eyes were wide, his fork was held midair, and he looked utterly thrown off. Genuinely surprised. Red noticed the reaction and initially assumed it to be bad.  _ Did... I do somethin’ wrong?... _ He shrunk back. In a matter of milliseconds, though, Papyrus’s mood bounced back with the force of a lion, and he jumped out of his chair and almost knocked the table over. Red was dismayed but quickly calmed himself, seeing how happy he made his brother's alternate. “YES YES YES! I AM SO GLAD YOU LIKED IT! NYEH HEH HEH! HOW COULD YOU NOT, WITH IT BEING MADE BY MASTER CHEF PAPYRUS!” Papyrus snapped his fingers and slammed his foot on the ground in a dramatic pose, getting the room’s attention. “BROTHER #2! FRET NOT! I, YOUR NEW, HONORARY, COOL, FAMOUS NEW BROTHER, WILL MAKE YOU ALL THE PASTA YOU COULD EVER WANT!”

Sans calmly and went back to his pasta after Papyrus’s declaration. Red’s eyelights, however, were pinpricks, and he looked like a profoundly amazed child. He mumbled a quiet ‘yeah.’ All he could do was nod his head as the kind figure towering over him offered to, of all things, cook for him, take him in, and give him a family for a little while.

Even though less amazed about this than Red, Sans couldn't help but be happy about the situation, though. Papyrus was the happiest he’s been in months, and his mood was notoriously contagious, even to blunt, snark, emotionally detached monsters like Red.

At this point, Papyrus couldn’t fathom this day getting any better. He had two identical older brothers now, and one actually understood the intricacies of his exceptional culinary practices! Someone was finally recognizing the real talent of Master Chef Papyrus. Papyrus didn’t fully understand where Red came from, or who he really was. That didn’t matter now! Red was 1. short, 2. a skeleton, 3. lived with them, and 4. had a passion for spaghetti! He fit all of Papyrus’s standards. He was happy to brand him ‘brother.’

Red wasn’t on the same page with the whole ‘family’ thing yet, but he already loved this bubbly, innocent asshole, more than 99% of the people in his original universe. Sans was right. His bro is objectively the coolest, and he could get used to the dynamic company any day. “WELL! I MUST BE GOING! SANS RANSACKED THE FOOD MUSEUM AND ATE ALL THE CHEESE OUT OF THE PACKAGE LIKE A GREMLIN AGAIN-” Sans broke into quiet laughs that Papyrus tried his very best to ignore. “-AND I MUST GET MORE! MOZZARELLA IS A CRUCIAL PART OF THE SPAGHETTI-MAKING PROCESS, AFTER ALL! FAREWELL, BROTHER #2! BYE, SANS!”

“ciao bro, have a gouda ti-” Unsurprisingly, the door slammed shut before Sans could finish his pun. Red grinned, though, so at least his comedic skills didn’t go to waste. “some people don’t have a shred of appreciation for good cheese puns. pretty un-grate-ful, if you ask me.” He leaned back in his chair now that Papyrus wasn’t there to give him a brotherly lecture. Red scoffed. “‘Cheese, dude, don’t brie so harsh on him. He’s a grate dude.” Sans rolled his eyes, but his mouth betrayed him and tugged up into a smile. “that one was clearly stolen off me.”

“What? Is it a crime to use two grator puns in a row?” Red questioned. Sans just shook his head, lurching forward and flipping his fork in his hand to point it at Red. “shut up and eat your spaghetti, freeloader.” He teased, nudging Red under the table. A skeletal foot smashed into his hip a moment later. “Oi, be nice to your ‘brother,’ or else,” Red snapped, jokingly. Sans really wanted to wipe that snarky grin off Red’s face and kick ‘em in the groin, like a real ‘brother’ might. Instead, he scoffed and picked through his spaghetti. “if you expect me to treat you like a brother, you’re up for a rude awakening buddy ol’ pal.” He murmured, ultimately dismissing the light-hearted feud.

There was little more to be said, so for the next little while, the pair sat in comfortable silence as they finished their supper. The only sounds were the clink of tableware and the ticking of a clock in the other room. Occasionally, Red would glance up from his gourmet spaghetti- J _ esus Christ Papyrus can cook _ \- to find Sans staring off in his direction. He chose to ignore it.

Really, if someone had told Red that he would get adopted into an alternate universe’s family and befriend his clone today, he would have told them to lay off the MTT Brand Coke. But, here he was, in a kitchen that looked like his, with Sans sitting across from him. Eating his brother’s clones’ Spaghetti in silence, and enjoying every second of it.

Red decided he’s fucking delusional for being chill with this situation. For feeling somewhat at ease with the asshole comedian around. But, despite knowing the bastard less than a day, he found himself oddly trusting of Sans. Infuriatingly, he couldn’t find a logical reason why. He lifted the last of the spaghetti to his mouth and set his fork down on his plate. He stared down into the plain, cracked china, his mind slowly racing through questions once again. Most of them having to do with Sans.

He had offered him a place to stay, and Sans was his only possible way home. He’s healed him, and has only shown aner once, and didn’t form an attack at him whenever Red tried to viciously attack him. Sans doesn’t even bat an eye at Red’s passive-aggressive jabs, and he laughs at Red’s puns like their the funniest shit in the world. Apparently, that was reason enough to trust him, according to Red’s subconsciousness. But, on the other hand, sharp logic prodded him, making sure he’s aware he’s only known the guy a day.

_ Why the ‘ell is everyone here so nice? _ Red thought to himself. He picked up his fork once more, rested his head against his palm, and stabbed into his napkin.  _ Kindness never made any sense. _

Back home, he and his brother have always gotten odd looks for their co-living situation. Especially his brother. Papyrus slaughters 1000+ HP monsters in the streets for fun, yet behind closed doors, the fucking edgelord houses and cares for a 1 HP pansy. Their bond was undoubtedly one of the most domestic, tame relationships in the Underground. No one could understand why. The co-leader has gone as far as to send the entire Snowdin Unit to murder children who jokingly threatened Red. He claimed it was an insult to his dignity, and other monsters were too afraid to question his actions. It didn’t even make sense to Red, at times.

Yet, as kind as his bro is to him, these guys take it to the next fucking level. First off, all of them were constantly touchy, at least by Red’s standards. Papyrus cooks for him, with no benefit in return. Grillby dismissed concerns over his wounds and gave him whiskey on the house. And Sans. Sans has practically taken him under his wing. All of this utterly confused Red, but he had to adjust to it at some point. This wasn’t his universe, and he wasn’t going to push his dogshit culture on everyone else.

Even if it was delusional to trust someone like the numbskull sitting across from him, he owed it to them to try. Sans has offered him more patience and kindness in a day than he’s had in his entire life. Red’s trust and a couple shit jokes are the least he can offer in return.

“huh. didn’t realize my plates were so interesting. dishes getting a bit boring, though, if you ask me.” It then dawned on Red that he had been intensely glaring down his tableware and shredding a napkin while Sans sat idle and patient. He dropped his fork with a loud clang and sat up straight. There was no way to play something like that off as ‘cool,’ but they still tried. Sans had an eyebrow raised, and something told him maybe he wasn’t buying it. Sans was twiddling a fork between his fingers, and his plate was already set aside, long clean. He’s probably sat there with that dumbass smirk on his face for a while, waiting for Red to stop playing Aristotle and look up. Red’s face heated up in embarrassment and instant regret. “S-Sorry! Fuck, T-Twas, just, uh, y’know, contem-plate-in’ somethin’, Ahah... y-y’know?” Sans chuckled, hoisting himself up and picking up both of their dishes. “a-huh. yep. honestly, i thought you fell asleep on me for a moment there. sorry im not a conversationalist, but i didn't realize i was that boring.” Red laughed at that.

 

“Borin’ my ass. You’re a whole damn comedian and a half, and you didn’t even need to possess a calculator to do it,” Sans turned back to Red, sockets wide with surprise. They both cracked up. It was just discovered their shared hate for a particular sexy rectangle transcended universes.

“pfft- alright, we should probably stop talking about the toaster and get going before my bro gets back. if he overheard this, he’d go nuts and bolt,” Sans winked, and Red tittered. “Uh, sure, but.. Go where? Don’ remember you mentioning anything ‘bout that,” He said and got up from the table. He strode to the sink and jumped up, sitting cross-legged on the counter and watching while his counterpart did the dishes. “i mean, it’s not really a surprise if i mention it, now is it?” Red tilted his head.  _ A surprise..? _ He considered prying for more info, but Sans would probably deflect his questions, like he was doing right now.

Red could hardly remember any times whenever ‘surprise’ had a good connotation with him. Not to say surprises couldn’t be pleasant. His birthday was one hell of a welcomed surprise, sure. Seeing his brother’s wonder and joy whenever Red reached LV 10 was fucking amazing. But, those were two of the only good examples he could come up with. Most of the time, surprises amounted to getting jumped at the capital. Or, getting the occasional poisoned i-scream bar.

Red didn’t think Sans was capable of poisoning him or doing any intentional harm. The guy was a complete softie. He wouldn’t be surprised if he was LV 1. But, even if this ‘surprise’ was a harmless act of kindness, not knowing what was planned for him gave Red a sense of unease that he had trouble putting aside. He appreciated the notion, nonetheless, and he didn’t feel he had the right to complain after all that’s been done for him.

He was curious, anyways. Sans was a guy he’s known a single day. They were technically the same person, but their worlds were different, and that undoubtedly affected their interests to unknown extents. What the hell could Sans be planning for him, considering he hardly knew him...? His mind drifted to darker possibilities. Was it possible that Red, for once, misjudged how big of a threat Sans was? Was the 'surprise' really just his plan to kill him?

He flinched as Sans flicked the side of his skull. His clone had sat next to him on the counter. The dishes were done, and his jacket was pulled on. He looked slightly concerned.

“hey, uh, earth to red... you alright bud? you’ve been spacing out a lot, heh. try not to always be so sirius, bud.” He advised, and Red nodded. This was the second time he’s spaced out in the past hour. Both times were connected to paranoia over Sans and his intentions.  _ Damn, I really need to fuckin’ chill. _

“anywho... you ready to go?” Red scratched the back of his head.

“Uh… Yeah, yeah, sure. Where we oft ’ta?” Sans jumped off the counter and spun on his heel. He offered his hand and helped Red hop down after him. “i’m not breaking the surprise already, jeez. whattaya take me for?” Red huffed. He was only getting more anxious about this so-called ‘surprise.’ He swallowed his doubt and followed Sans to the door, grabbing his jacket from the table and shrugging it on on the way there. “Alright, Alright, fair. Could ya at least tell me if we takin’ a shortcut?” Sans shook his head, cracking the door open and reaching behind for Red’s sleeve. “nah. I’ll shortcut us to the closest station since snowdin’s cold as hell, but my magics running low. i couldn’t get the full way there.” Sans wasn’t paying attention, and his’ hand missed Red’s sleeve and clasped his hand instead. Red’s soul lurched, and he grew rigid.

Sans hadn’t meant to grasp Red’s hand, but he didn’t see much problem with it. It was almost nice, even. He tightened his grip, readied his magic, and lead them through the door. They appeared at his waterfall sentry station, and he let go. “heh, ya want some ketchup while we’re here? i need to get some.” He called back, kneeling below the counter and grabbing a bottle of ketchup.

Sans didn’t turn around, by some miracle, and hence never saw his guests’ rigid posture or magic-dusted cheeks.  _ Why is this universe so damn touchy?! All the time? Dear Asgore,  _ Red thought. He put a hand over his flushed face and glared as his oblivious friend tried to find a bottle that wasn’t empty

It had been years since Red had held hands with anyone. Physical contact wasn’t frequent in his universe, at all. In some regions of the Underground, it was almost taboo. Now, he wasn’t afraid of touch, not too severely, but he was definitely not used to it. The small amount of contact he had with others consisted of fights at Grillby's and an occasional pat on the back or slap from his boss. It was taking a lot out of him to get used to this universe’s way of life.

He closed his eyes and listened to the sound of water crashing below. His face was slowly cooling down, but it didn’t help that he couldn’t push the memory from his head. It was a small, harmless gesture that lasted a couple minutes at most, and… He wouldn’t call it unpleasant. But, it sent his soul into a frenzied mess of backflips and skipped beats that he wish he a fucking warning for. Red needed to move on from this, so he glanced down and focused on what his favorite bonehead was doing instead. It seems he finally found some full bottles in the station.

Sans was about to grab a second bottle of ketchup, whenever Red stopped him. “Ah, wait… uh, ye got any mustard? Never tried ketchup, heh.” Sans grabbed his last bottle of mustard from under the counter, chucking it back to Red. He needed to restock, but that wasn’t a problem. After all, he always had mustard in his Snowdin station. “wow, drinking mustard straight from the bottle? what a weirdo.” He jeered, finally facing Red. His arm suffered for that remark. “Ah, shut it! You’re no better with that disgusting red shit!” Sans’ unamused glare slowly shifted into a look that held a more mischievous glint, and Red squinted.

“dare you to chug a bottle for 5g-” Sans mockingly offered, hastily cut off.

“No way in hell!” Red spat, clutching his mustard defensively. Sans was surprised the bottle didn’t bust. “your loss, i was serious about the 5g. well, c’mon, it’s almost late enough for the surprise.” Red followed obediently.

As they fell into a steady paste, side by side, Red began to ponder aloud. “Alright, so, the surprise; what I’ve got so far is that it’s in rural Waterfall, just for me, and specifically made to happen 'late,'” He motioned with his hands as he ran over the information, counting bullet points on his fingers. “yup.” Sans nodded and awaited his prediction.

“Hm. This sounds like the plot of a really shitty horror movie, not gonna lie.” He concluded, and Sans barked out a laugh. It sounded genuine, so at least he knew that he was probably wrong. “pfft, yeah, ya got me. so, you prefer cyanide or..?” It was Red’s turn to chuckle. “Wow, cheap ass. You can buy cyanide for twenty-five cents a bottle! ‘ow ‘bout a grenade? If I’m going out, I’m going out with a bang!” Sans chortled. “knew you’d say something like that. pretty cliche, don’t ya think?” Red flipped him off, though his smile never left his face. 

 

“Oh, go to ‘ell, it’s creative in practice. So, uh, where are we...?” It was a calm evening, perfect for a walk through Waterfall. Even so, Red couldn’t help but notice he was being led down a desolate, secluded path. He’d finished his mustard and tossed it on the route behind him some time ago. “oh, nowhere, heh heh. watch your step, by the way, this is a pretty old trail. it’s not much farther.” Red was thankful for the warning, but he still incessantly stumbled over rocks in the rough path. Everything about this sprouted major red flags to him, but he followed out of stupidity. He agreed to this, and he wasn’t going to be a rude bastard and back out now.

Especially whenever Sans was this happy to be taking him. He showed it subtly, but Red could tell.

Sans stopped, and he glanced up from the path he was focused on navigating. In front of them was a small crag in the rocks. It was just large enough for either of them to scrape through but just small enough to give other monsters trouble. He glanced in skeptically. He was able to see a sliver of blue light ahead. This situation looked sketchy as hell, and he was definitely a dumbass to go this far. A small part of him wanted to port back to the house and hope the long walk cooled Sans's anger towards his abandonment. Red wouldn’t, of course, but it was a tempting option.

“sorry. it’s a bit of a squeeze, so ya might scrape a bone on somethin’, but trust me when i say it’s worth it. ah, where are my manors...” Sans bowed and dramatically motioned to the door, failing to hide his smirk. “ladies first?”

Red suddenly decided he wouldn’t feel too guilty making this asshole walk home, after all.

Nevertheless, Red shoved past him into the aperture before he could change his mind. He cautiously crept through with Sans on his tail, struggling with the dark cavern and the loose gravel and slippery mud under him. He knew Sans was behind him if he fell, but that wasn’t making him feel very assured. He made it to the very end of the cavern whenever he slipped and nearly fell forward. He hastily caught his balance on a small ledge and raised his head as he stumbled out of the opening.

His eyes adjusted. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

He heard Sans come out from behind him, and Red felt a hand gently rest on his shoulder. “heh. whatcha think?”

Before them, one of the most precious sights in the Underground stood. Beautiful patches of blue flowers grew in beautiful harmony with the blackened grass and violet flowers around them. Their soft, glowing petals reached to the glistening ceiling above and helped illuminate the millions of crystals hanging above them. Amethyst, Citrine, and limestone stretched out across the roof, in a seemingly endless spiral of contrasting and harmonizing crystals that glow shards danced between. A small, peaceful stream flowed in the western corner of the room, giving life to the flowers and casting an intense blue glow across areas of the cavern that the bioluminescent petals couldn’t reach. But none of this beat what he saw when Sans nudged him and pointed skywards, to the real light source they had been basking in.

Above them, there was a small crevice in the rock and soil, less than a foot wide. But through it, moonlight poured through the barrier. It cascaded them both in a bright, beautiful glimpse of what monsters could long to experience in full one day. It offered a small taste of freedom and gave hope to two monsters who gave up trying to go back a long time ago.

Red has never been more astounded.

In the middle of the room, sitting on a patch of the echo flowers, sat a telescope, several star maps, and other equipment. A couple of blankets, two mugs full of hot chocolate, and, best of all, a greasy takeout bag and some chisps leaned against the scope.

Red was speechless. Sans had decided to trust in him, of all people enough to show him a place as precious as this. Not only that, but the guy had brought him here to stargaze. It’s possible Sans thought little of the gesture and Red’s amazement and fondness were misplaced. It’s reasonable he still thought of Red as a stranger, and that he would drag any old joe off the street here. But Red had his doubts.

He felt Sans start to grasp his hand, and jolted, tearing his eyes away from the scene around him to glance over. Sans thankfully aborted and settled for grabbing his sleeve. He led them over to the small set up, dropped down on the flowers, and patted the spot next to him. “you were going through a lot, and i could tell you needed to clear your head. i don't go here often, but this place usually calms me down when i'm stressed, y’know? thought it might do ya good to come here, tell some shitty puns, eat junk food, and maybe even stargaze for a couple hours. sounds like a stellar idea to me.” Red cracked a crooked smile, his expression rigged with a strong mixture of uncertainty and fondness. “It’s... beautiful. Thanks, bud. I… dunno ‘ow I’ll repay ya after this one.” Sans winked and started to shrug his jacket off. Red glanced around at the small set up, and instinctively reached for the chisps. “nah, don’t sweat it. ya don’t gotta repay me for this. but uh, i’m flat broke now, so you’ll have to foot the bill next time we’re at grillbz.”

“Pfft, put it on ya tab, asshole. I don’t got a coin to my name! God, I can imagine your damn tab...” Nervous finger guns shot at him, and Red was suddenly a bit concerned. Sans averted his gaze. “w-what? half a million’s a reasonable tab, right?” Red huffed in relief. And slight disappointment. “Only at half a million...? Damn, that’s nothing! I’m at 880 grand, parry that ya fuckin’ casual!” Sans snatched the chisps from Red and grumbled. “don’t act so high and mighty. howza’boutta bet? once we get ya home, 20g says that i can get my tab to a million first.” After Red hesitantly gave up the chisps, his jacket was discarded next to Sans. He had got up and went to examine the telescope as Sans gambled away the money he didn’t have, having a gander through the lens. “Pfft, deals on.”

He lifted his focus from the telescope’s lens, straightening up to look at Sans. He was lying back with one leg crossed over the other. His sockets were closed, and he was occasionally picking from the bag of chisps against him. Red’s smiled. He looked relaxed. Who wouldn’t be? A crystal sky, a calming stream, and a friend to share it with.  _ He looks really fuckin’ ador _ \- Sans cracked a socket open at just the wrong moment and caught him staring. He snapped his head away, and Sans snickered.

“‘Ey, uh, Sans. Clouds ‘er kinda blockin’ out shit tonight. Why’d you bring a ‘scope...?” Red asked, bending back down and busying himself in trying to see past the thick clouds that covered the sky. He heard a rustle in the flowers behind him that he guessed was a shrug. “i dunno. figured the sky might clear up later. either way, the stones are always good enough, right?” Waterfalls’ signature pink crystals were revealing themselves among the contrastingly blue aurora of the room as the night drew on. It added a new layer of awe to an area that was already stunning. Sans had a point. Red couldn’t bring himself to complain further, even if it made the telescope purely aesthetic.

He picked up his hoodie, sloppily bundled it up, and tossed it next to Sans. He settled down and rested his head on his makeshift pillow.

Peaceful silence fell again. Sans seemed content with it, Red less so. The crystals and flowers around them were great, but Red couldn’t stomach his confusion. Sans has been incredibly nice to him. Too nice. Even here, there was no way this was normal, right..? Despite knowing him a couple of hours, everyone already seemed to care about him. Sans even seemed relaxed around him.  _ Geez, these guys would probably befriend a damn human,  _ He sarcastically mused to himself as he worked to sneak the chisp bag away from Sans. He just couldn’t accept this much kindness without skepticism.

“somethin’ on ya mind, bud? i’m not amazing at advice, but i always got a metaphorical ear to lend. you’ve been through a lot today, so what’s up?” He opened a socket to Red, watching him intently and waiting for him to speak. He avoided Sans’ gaze and messed with a blade of grass for a couple of moments, trying to find the right words for what he was going to ask. He finally shifted onto his side to face Sans.

“Why’d ya bring me out here, Sans? Let’s… Let’s face it. I’ve been an ass from the moment I popped up today. A constant menace with a bad temper and violent reflexes-” He paused whenever a bony hand firmly set on his shoulder. Sans had shifted closer and turned to him, propping himself up with his other arm. His eyelights were gazing down at Red with a deep solemnly hiding in their blue tint, yet he looked hesitant to speak.

“want a dose of brutal honesty?” He finally asked. His voice came out in a wavering tone, but Red nodded. He sighed, averted his eyes, and spoke.

“when i saw you, i tried to attack you. remember to thank grillbz later, because he stopped me from dusting you in the alleyway. but… buddy, he almost didn't.” Red winced, but he wasn’t surprised. Perhaps Sans was more reasonable about the events and his actions than he let on. “i was wary of you, and constantly on edge after you woke up. i tried not to let it show, but i was scared shitless of you. but, uh... i think a lot of that changed back there. on the couch. after i told you about my, uh, research...”

Sans’ eyelights dimmed. He looked a bit wearier than he did a moment ago. “look. i know how it feels to lose everything. to wake up in another world, not your own, but not unlike your own. i gave up on trying to go back a long time ago.” His eyes met Red’s, and he gave a spent smile.

“some good food, some bad laughs, some nice friends… it’s what i thought i should offer you. it's what i did to cheer myself up before, so why not do it for 'myself' now?" A glint of amusement flickered in his eyes, and Red smiled. He offered him the chisps, and Sans gladly took a break from the trying conversation.

After finishing the snack and giving himself time to think over his next words, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His grip on Red’s shoulder tightened, and the smile he wore… Well, Red wouldn’t grace it with a description.

“red. buddy. if you try to hurt me or others…” His sockets opened, and the cold, void stare that met him sent chills down Red’s spine. The world around them suddenly seemed less peaceful and more suffocating. The air held a tension that was previously vacant, and it made Red all too aware of how vulnerable he was out here. “well... you’re not gonna like what happens next. we have similarities. i know a lot of your weaknesses.” He warned. Thankfully, his eyelights reappeared after a moment, yet his expression remained stern. “frankly, i don’t want to. and i feel i won’t need to. you’re in a rough place, but there’s a glimmer of a good person inside of you. you got my trust, bud. just, don’t screw that up, ok?"

Red was silent. His gaze was cast downwards. His questions were answered, though he didn’t know how to react to the responses. Neither of them handles hard conversations well, but Red clearly does worst in them. He was stupid for considering the possibility that Sans was naive or overtrusting. Of course, Sans knew he could be a threat. But, in the end, he still put his trust in Red, and that was something to be cherished. He wasn’t going to let that slide

"besides... someone who genuinely harbors a love for bad jokes... well, they got an integrity you can’t say no to. look, i’m not great with words, and i probably scared you shitless, but... just... i’m rootin’ for ya, alright?” He flashed a nervous smile and scratched the back of his head. Sans wasn’t sure he did or said the right thing. With his luck, he might of pissed Red off.

Wordlessly, Red lifted sat up, and Sans looked at him with blatant confusion and worry. Red brushed it off, choked his timidity down, and threw his arms around Sans before he could talk himself out of it.

There was a long pause, where the only sounds were the distant chatter of flowers and the trickle of water. Sans didn’t react. Red felt a knot built in his stomach, and he began to pull away, regrettably admitting to himself that was a huge mistake. To his surprise, he was met with resistance. Sans pulled him back and clutched Red tightly to his chest. He tensed briefly, but he quickly calmed himself down. There was a murmured of thanks, and Red gave into the other’s hold. He closed his eyes, and he nestled into the crook of Sans’s neck.

Truth be told, this is the first time Red’s hugged anyone in many, many years. His brother began to reject his hugs soon after he learned it to be a sign of weakness- and it’s been a long time since his college friend Alphys had pushed him away in favor of other ‘comforts.’ The gesture was intended as a ‘thank you’ to Sans. But, Red found needed this much more than he thought he did. He felt Sans start to shift back and panicked, but he begrudgingly let go. After pulling back, he couldn’t bring himself to look up. But a quick glimpse told him Sans was smiling.

“let's just dig into the burgs and forget this for now, bud. howzabout it?”

“Hah... Yeah, sure. I got no beef with that idea. I’m fuckin’ starved,” Soon, the mood lifted into a more pleasant one that they both preferred, and the severity of the passing conversation faded from the atmosphere. But the embrace they shared lingered in the backs of both of their minds.

Soon, time got lost among both him and Sans. They spent hours telling bad jokes and generally messing around, just as Sans planned. At one point, they bet on who could point out more depictions of hotcats in the glistening rockface above (Red won.) At others, they were slipping puns in between choked wheezes to fuel their lively laughing fits. Sans tried to tickle Red at some point during one of these fits. That only led them into a ‘playful’ battle that had many casualties in the form of soaked star maps, ruined clothes, and a dented telescope. Right now, they were sitting in the flowers again. Sans’s shirt was soaked and glowing after being dumped in the stream nearby, and Red was covered in mud and glowing pollen from wrestling in the dirt. Despite being absolute messes because of each other, they weren’t mad. Rather, they were beyond gleeful and grinning like madmen.

“pfft, geez, i’d hate to actually get you mad. you’ve mercilessly destroyed my best shirt,” Sans said with a grin, proudly holding his glowing and dripping shirt up off his chest. “Asshole! You played dirty, tryin’a shove fucking flowers up my nose! That serves you fuckin’ ri.. righ-” Sans chortled as Red sneezed for the fifth time tonight. Red elbowed him right in the gut and halted his giggles. “Stop laughing and change before ya catch somethin’, dumbass.” Sans rolled his eyes. “god, you’re like a second papyrus. well, if you insist...” He slipped his shirt off, and Red turned to give him privacy. He listened to the rustling behind him and sipped the last of his hot cocoa from his mug, discarding the empty cup with the rest of their trash. He was exhausted after their struggle, and while he wasn’t going to admit it, he wasn’t gonna be able to make the walk home. Sans tapped his shoulder, and he turned around to find... Sans. In both of their extremely bulky jackets. With both the hoods up.

...T-posing over him.

Red dissolve into howling laughter and Sans couldn’t suppress a few chuckled from underneath the suffocating mass. “You look fuckin’ stupid!” Red roared, falling onto his back. While Sans occasionally managed to kill him with laughter, he was slowly finding it easier to calm down after these fits. It was probably him starting to build up a resistance after, what, 15 rounds of wheezing till his ribs hurt? Sans sat down next to him, struggled to pull the jackets down enough to speak, and sprawled out next to Red. “y’know, this be kinda comfy, not gonna lie. thanks for giving me yours, bud.” Red tried to snatch at his hood, only for Sans to laugh and smugly clutch the jacket over his. Red gave up after a couple more attempts, and instead stared up at the stones while his friend settle down in the flowers.

“Sans?”

“mmf?” He noticed Sans’ eyelids were starting to droop, but he opened one to give Red a dull look.

“How mad will your bro be if we don’t come home tonight?” He asked. “he’s gonna be absolutely pissed.” The replied was loaded with blunt honesty, and Red snickered. Sans closed his eyes again, and it was clear what the plan was. Suffer Papyrus’s wrath tomorrow and sleep here.

Red curled up in one of the blankets brought along and listened to the whisper of the echo flowers around them. It seems that Sans had drifted off a couple of moments ago, and a peaceful silence sat over them. Before he knew it, he too had closed his eyes.

He could get used to Sans’ company.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tl;dr: the chapter where papyrus shoves spaghett in red’s mouth, adopts him, and then his new edgy brother decides he wanna commit winceST WITH THE SMILEY TRASH BAG THE END BYE-
> 
> Papyrus is such a hard charatcer to write, jeez. I’ve noticed that so many fics have trouble writing him. It’s so easy to make him a narcissist or too naive if you’re not careful, so I rewrote his lines like 5 times, hah. After all, He's the Great Papyrus, his lines can't be anything other than great.
> 
> Next chapter’ll be out whenever. Just started it. Hope you enjoyed! Tell me if there's any mistakes, as always!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red and Sans go home.
> 
> After some mutual bonding involving bad puns, phone maintenance, and fucking up Sans' lab, they go eat dinner. Red gets some quality time with the (self-proclaimed) Greatest Skeleton in the Underground, over a delicious helping of the (Papyrus-proclaimed) Greatest Food in the Underground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided I suck at naming chapters, so I'm gonna stop naming 'em lol-
> 
> Anywho! I decided to start doing shorter chapters, both to update quicker, and segment out the plot better. I hope you guys enjoy this new kinda shorter chapter thing then, but if you don't, just drop a comment and I might go back to doing longer chapters with less frequent updates.
> 
> E N J O Y !

Red couldn't muster up the energy to open his eyes whenever his consciousness drifted out of sleep. His exhausted magic was failing him, and he couldn't even move, but he also didn't see why he would want to. He was enveloped in something soft, and clinging to something next to him that he drearily determined was his pillow. His bones ached, and he felt worn out. What from? He couldn't remember. He drew a deep breath, and summoned just enough energy to nuzzle further into his semi-hard pillow. From the warmth of his resting spot, he could hear the distant sounds of the world awakening. Birds were singing, and flowers were blooming. It was a perfect day for sleeping in. The fresh smell of spring flooded his senses, and he heard the rhythmic beat of his soul in the lulling silence. Though his bones felt brittle, and the side of his skull was aching for fuck knows why, he couldn’t complain about his situation when considering the rare peace the air held, and comfort he was swathed in. He was ready to nod off again into blissful, and well deserved rest.

 

Then, the bundle he naively mistook for a pillow, the entity he was clutching ever-so-close, _fucking moved._ He nearly pissed himself.

 

His eyes shot open, and he was suddenly wide awake. As panic rose and anxiety whispered horrifying and gruesome scenarios to him, he could only sit in paralyzed fear. He felt his soul beat and pound against its cage of bone. Adrenaline surged through his marrow, and previously missing energy flooded his system fast enough for his stomach to lurch. There was not a bone in his body that wasn't tensed. A plethora of attacks were already partially formed, but a small voice in the back of his head was begged for him to keep his fear at bay. So, he fought against his instincts and kept himself from decimating the figure beside him, as he ought to. As the minutes passed, only continued to knot in his stomach. Once he forced his uncooperative eye lights to form and come into a hazy focus, and he snuck a peek at the figure next to him. Quickly, his form went slack, and solace flushed over him in waves. Staring back at him was a familiar face that he knew posed no threat. A chill went down his spine, and he forced his tense magic to go lax. _It’s just that asshole… H-Holy shit that’s..._ He took in a ragged breath and attempted to calm his soul’s anxious, adrenaline-fueled pounding. Sans was still asleep, and blissfully unaware of the sheer panic he induced on Red. For a couple of minutes, Red was overcome with relief, and beyond thankful that he didn't attack. Soon after his soul stopped pounding, Sans moved again in his sleep, and... He realized where exactly he _was._

 

In Sans arms.

 

Fucking cuddling.

 

An entirely different type of panic set in. This time, he couldn’t stop his riled instincts, and he jerked his hands from around Sans and formed an attack. He faintly recognized the first wave of attacks missed in the midst of his rough fight out of the other’s hold. He couldn't seem to break loose at first. He was about to stop struggling, when he caught a foothold on something and kicked himself away with desperation. After breaking out of the hold and scooting as far back as he possibly could, he took a couple of moments to raggedly take in breaths, and overall gather himself. By the time he looked back up, Sans was obviously awake. And he did not look very amused.

 

“what. the. hell. red.” He seethed through a vexed permasmile. One of his hands clasped underneath his jacket at one of the bare ribs just out of Red’s sight. Sans was not in a very good state. Red could hear him wheezing in breathy gasps, and saw how badly he was shaking. Even his smile was quivering in an attempt to stay on his face. Red winced. He most definitely fractured a false rib. He knew from experience that fucking sucked, and he could only imagine the world of pain Sans was in underneath that counterfeit smile.

 

“Oh.. O-Oh hell, Sans, let me he-” Red sputtered out, starting to scoot forward once again. Sans flinched, and his eye dimly ignited in a spark of blue magic. He saw the faint blue outline of a partially formed attack, Red’s soul sank, although Sans quickly dismissed it. Several minutes pasted before Sans' gruff voice broke the silence. “you bruised it at worst. look, it’s probably hours past noon, and paps will send the whole damn royal guard out as a search party if we’re not home soon. i’ll look at it once we’re home.” Red shifted and threw his eyes back to the ground. He knew he should contest it before further damage was done, force Sans to look over his wound _this instant_ \- But, he no longer felt he had the right to demand anything of Sans. He can't believe he had lost his friend’s trust so quickly with his damned bullshit. After a while, Red nodded solemnly, and got up to do something and give Sans space.

 

Now that his initial morning heart attacks had seemingly passed, he has the chance to look around. The scene from yesterday no longer held the same ambience, and Red hardly recognized it as the same location. Bright daylight was now streaming through the barrier, casting a blinding, golden glow on the scene below. Echo flowers no longer shown anywhere other than in the darkest corners. He may have appreciated this scene more under different circumstances. He decided to make himself useful and tasked himself with cleaning up the large piles of trash their antics had generated last night. For most of it, cramming it into the Grillby's bag worked. He heard Sans picking up the blankets behind them, and he did his best to ignore him _._ He needed space. Truly, Red didn't know how to make amends for a fuck up this colossal.

 

Within half an hour, they both had both exhausted their duties, and the area was left spotless in their wake. Sans had his telescope packed up and slung over his back. Water stained star maps were messily pouring out of the unzipped top. Wrinkled blankets, his shirt, and Red’s jacket were balled up under one of his arms, and he let his other arm lay idle at his side. Meanwhile, Red only carried the large Grillby's bag packed full of trash and the mugs Sans had brought out. Red tried to catch a glimpse of Sans' injury from his unzipped jacket, but he was given a cold, warning glare whenever he was caught looking. _Oops._

“ready?” Sans asked, making them both uncomfortably aware of the previous silence.

 

“‘Course.”

 

Within a couple of minutes, they had both squeezed back out of the crevice they came in from, and began their trek down the old path that took them here. They fell in step side by side, and soon it became hard to ignore the thick and uneasy tension that swirled in the air around them. Red was picking at scabs on his thumb with his free hand, and Sans clenched the fabric lining the inside of his jacket. He sighed, deciding to be the one to break the agonizing silence. “red, bud. look. i’m not mad. you barely even shaved off a fraction of my hp point. but, you need to understand that's only because your attack missed. you could have dusted me. i don't know how to put this any lighter: you need to quit your shit before you hurt someone.” Red cast his unsettled eyes to the ground. He didn’t know how he was going to ‘quit his shit,’ honestly. Reactive instincts like that have been ingrained in him for years, and they didn’t have a damn toggle on switch. They kept him safe at home, and he’s never been in a place where they weren’t obligatory. Until now.

 

He heard a sigh, and Sans spoke up again, in a much lighter tone. “hey, don’t overthink it,” He felt something graze his hand, and his eyes darted over to find that Sans had taken his hand out of his pocket, and was offering it. Magic seared Red’s bewildered face, and he wanted to ignore the out of place gesture. But, it seemed to be Sans' way of offering a truce. Rejecting it would come off as rude, at best.

 

“really, uh, forget what i said, ‘s fine, bud. you’ve been through a lot, and you’ll have time to, uh, work on your reactions. don’ worry ‘bout it. let’s just head home. i call first dibs on yesterday’s leftovers.” The corners of his mouth tugged up, and Red nodded. The naive kindness of Sans perplexed him, but he was beyond grateful for it. Sans was digging him out of a hole he threw himself into. “Pssh, fine, have it your way. You better leave me some, though.”

 

After that, the silence changed drastically, from suffocating and hopeless, to calm, and almost nice.

 

Sans smooth phalanges tightened their hold on Red’s own scarred bones, and his stature stiffened as he remembered it. Nevertheless, he returned the gesture with a quiet scoff. He still felt a ping of annoyance at how damn mushy and touchy Sans and everyone else in this forsaken world was. But… If this was the trade off for constantly having someone want to kill ‘em, hell, holding hands isn’t that fucking bad. He could even call it a bit nice. A bit.

 

Red tried to distract himself from the small strokes Sans was beginning to dash on his hand by looking around at wherever the hell they were. Truthfully, he had no fucking clue. Waterfall was one of his favorite areas, but the scenery was so static that he’d often get lost. This universe was no different, of course. They were probably still out in the middle of nowhere. _Might as well fuckin' talk to the guy.._ _  
_

 

“So,” Red finally spoke, garnering Sans’ attention. “Th’ ‘ell we gonna do the rest of the day...?”

“well,” Sans replied, “probably get lectured by papyrus, first and foremost.” Red cringed, and Sans chuckled. “pfft, don’t look so scared. he’ll just be worried. i feel bad about leavin’ him alone last night..” Sans admitted, kicking a rock in their path and gaining a better hold on the blankets under his arm. “he gets cranky without his bedtime story.” Red felt a pang of guilt run through him. Sans had only come out here because of him, and he sure as hell repaid him well. If he hadn’t of messed shit up…

 

“anyways, after that, i needa get to work on fixing my phone. i know damn well paps dropped it in the sauce yesterday. somethin’ tells me YOU know that too...” Red’s eyes never darted away so quickly, and he distanced himself as much as their entwined hands would let him. Sans laughed and jerked him back into a shove. “pfft, knew it, you bitter asshat. well... i was thinkin after that we can start work on gettin ya home. i got enough shit to at least try and start. i’m heading into Hotland for supplies soon, though, so don’t worry.” Red snapped his head back whenever Sans mentioned ‘home.’ _He was serious ‘bout that…?_ Now, Red wasn’t usually fond of touchy-feely bullshittery, but... He could barely hold back from hugging the life out of Sans right now.

 

“then, once we're done with that shit... i say we shit around with this anime i got recently ‘fore bed,” Sans suggested. “Nice. Uh, whazzita ‘bout…?” Red asked. Sans’ grin grew wider.

 

“that’s the funny part. get this: it’s flying space lions that turn into a ripoff transformer. according to the guy i got it from, it’s from like, 30 years ago or something, and gots hilariously bad acting. they ain’t into that kinda thing, so they passed it off to me.” Red grinned. _Bad 80’s shows? A man of fine taste_. “Now that sounds like fuckin’ comedy gold. ‘Ey, not to change the subject, but mind if we take a shortcut home? This is takin’ forever, bud,” Sans nodded.

 

“uh, glad you suggested that,” Red glanced up, confused by the nervous ring in Sans’ voice. “because we’re kinda lost.”

 

Red momentarily forgot their hands were clasped, and nearly facepalmed. Despite wanting to be angry about walking his ass off for the past 20 minutes, he couldn’t get too mad at Sans for that. Being stubborn asshole himself, and would have done the exact same thing. “Pfft- Dear Asgore, you mean we’va been goin’ in circles for the past half hour cus’ you we’re lost?” A cheeky grin confirmed his accusation. “yup.”

 

“Tch- Shortcut us home already, dumbass! We got some important work to do. Like ransacking your bro’s food museum.” Sans elbowed him, and he laughed. “What? You’re the one who mentioned leftovers.”

 

“eh, fair point. well, c’mon, it’s been a pretty oventful day. it’s pastable paps made some fresh grub for us at home.” Sans winked, and slowed his pace. With a swift slash, a shortcut was ripped in front of them. Snow gusted in from the newly created universal tear, and the sounds of Snowdin town. Their porch stood on the other side of the gap. Sans led the way, and Red stepped through without hesitation, even if the sudden change in weather sent chills down his spine. Sans tried the doorknob, but after realizing it was locked for some odd reason, he grumbled and ruefully shook his hand loose and went about searching for the key. Red hesitantly obliged.

 

After a couple of moments of jangling through his over packed keychain and testing different keys, Sans finally found the right one and swung the door open. “sorry. ‘ts usually not locked, so i forget the key. either way, i still call first dibs on the pasta,” He added, unceremoniously dropping their stuff at the door and bee lining for the kitchen. Red shut the door behind him, and shrugged off his dirty jacket, tossing it on top of Sans’ telescope case. Unsurprisingly, their clothes were still in horrendous states. Sans’ soaked clothes had dried some since last night, but water still soaked the fluff of his hood, and made him reek like a wet dog. Not to mention, bio luminescent bacteria still had the fabric of his shirt faintly glowing from underneath the pile of blankets. As bad as Sans' stuff was, Red’s clothes weren’t much better. He doomed to the death of grass stains, his shorts had a large tear in them, and his shoes were muddy as hell. He had to slip them off at the doorway just to keep them from tracking everywhere.

 

“‘Ey, got some clothes I can borrow, bud?” He asked as he made it to the kitchen. Sans looked up from the counter, where he had already heated up his food and was ravaging one of the tupperware containers’ contents. Red had half a mind to tell him he looked and smelt like some hungry gremlin that crawled out of a dumpster. “mm? yeah, check the trash tornado. also: you look like shit. i would tell ya to take a shower, but i forgot the water bill this month, so sorry bud.” Red brushed off the rude comment and chuckled. Ironically, he forgot his water bill this month too. Sans and him really were the same lazy bastard at heart.

 

“Aight, heat me up some shit while I’m gone. You better leave me some,” He growled, shoving Sans on his way out. A shrew laugh followed behind him.

 

 

It wasn’t hard to find Sans’ room- T _hey had the same fuckin’ room, damnit_ \- But he was intrigued to find that his brother’s room didn’t change at all. He had to stop and recheck it. It was the same brightly colored tape reading ‘NO BOYS ALLOWED,’ ‘NO GIRLS ALLOWED,’ and ‘PAPYRUS ALLOWED,’ that adored the door in his universe. It stayed exactly the same, despite the radical difference in the room’s owners. The same signs were fitting for both the skeletons, albeit in completely different ways.

 

After moving on to Sans’ room, he opened the door to an odd surprise. Absolutely nothing looked the same.

  
Well, _most_ of nothing looked the same. Sans still had a growing sock collection and a trash tornado, though his sock collection was much smaller than Red’s. (He was clearly still an amateur.) Oddly, though, Sans still had a mattress, a dresser, and even a treadmill. Red had splintered his dresser and shredded his mattress years ago. And, why the hell would ANY version of himself willingly get a treadmill? _Well… Pfft, prolly it’s for a prank. Yeah, ‘ell, that makes sense._

 

Red didn’t find anything of use in the trash tornado (Unless Sans was expecting him to wear crumbled paper and spaghetti), so he shuffled over to Sans’ dresser and peeked in. “Of course he has a fucking trombone,” He muttered to himself, shoving the instrument out of the way and tossing out some of the dirtier clothes to search for something wearable. Most of Sans’ drawer consisted of white tees and gym shorts, and he was about to just grab one of those, but then Red noticed a pile writhed into the corner, out of sight and obscured by socks piled onto it. His curiosity got the better of him, and he dug in.

He found an utter goldmine.

 

The pile consisted purely of god tier shirts. Red couldn’t imagine why Sans would ever have them hidden away. “Puns out, Suns out,” “You can’t skelerun from my skelepun,” “Send noods.” Red was trying to suppress chuckles under his breath as he browsed the superb selection he now had to choose from. He loved all of them already. _Of course Sans owns these. Of-fucking-course._ Among the pile, Red also found shirts Sans obviously only wore ironically, and they’re shitty humor got to Red the most. “Gamers don’t die, they respawn,” and “OwO” shirts? Sans was a God, period.

 

Red eventually tugged out a baggy shirt that said “Comet me bro,” and decided it’d suffice. He pulled it on, along with a pair of gym shorts, and simply abandoned his dirty clothes on the floor. He’d pick them later.

 

After ensuring he looked half less-shitty, he left Sans' room and came bounding down the stairs. Sans had just came from the kitchen, a fresh plate of reheated pasta in his hand. He paused whenever he saw Red. “you found my shirt collection, i see. looks good on you,” He remarked, handing Red his plate as he jogged up. “Damn right. You shouldn’t hide national treasures like those, bud. “Bone-jour?” “I got your back?” “So Hip?” Dear Asgore you’re a fashion idol.” Sans beamed. “glad to see someone has fine taste. anywho, i’m heading out back. you comin’?” He offered. Red noted he had already ripped open a shortcut leading to what looked like his lab. “Sure. Pasta allowed?” Sans seemed to hesitate, but waved him on anyways. “eh, sure. screw health regs, you probably won't catch some weird mutant virus. go ahead and bring the grub,” Red nodded and triumphantly held his dish up as he stepped through. Sans came in after him.

 

 

The lab looked the same as always. Same equipment, same machine, same blueprints… It was exactly as it was in his own universe. _I guess some things never change, huh..._ Red took a seat and set his dish on the counter, turning his focus onto what Sans was working on as his friend taped on his glasses. On the table sat a small box of hardware replacements, screwdrivers, and… Pastably the most pitiful phone Red has ever seen. The entire phone had been snapped in half, and most of the screen was riddled with spiderweb-like cracks that almost made the screen look white. Spaghetti sauce oozed from the crevices and cracks, appearing in surplus in areas it shouldn't have even been able to get in. Green silvers in the filthy mess showed that the remains of a bent and broken motherboard, and somehow, idle wires freely hung out of the _damn charging port._ A note from Papyrus sat not too far from it.

 

“SANS! I DROPPED YOUR PHONE AGAIN. I AM SO SORRY. I KNEW YOU WOULD BE FIXING IT, SO I SET IT BACK HERE LIKE YOU ASKED ME TO LAST TIME. I PROMISE I’LL MAKE IT UP TO YOU! REALLY!!

 

SORROWFULLY YOURS,

YOUR LOVING BROTHER PAPYRUS”

 

Red turned his attention back to the phone and reexamined it. He had no clue how Papyrus managed to mess it up this badly by _cooking_ , but one thing he did know is that Sans was NOT going to get that piece of shit working again. He's fixed his own phone countless times whenever his Boss borrowed it, but he's never seen any system fucked up this badly. He had a snowballs’ chance in hell of even getting the spaghetti sauce out, and just looking at the project made Red cringe.

  
“Uh… You need help…?” Red offered. There was little he could do for damage that colossal, but, he thought he should at least offer condolences. “eh? sure. scoot over and pass me a phillips, bud,” Sans replied, moving the hunk of junk closer to Red as he scooted his chair over. “There ya go. Sans, do you uh… Really think that’s fixable?” He inquired as he passed Sans the screwdriver. Sans just shrugged and started taking apart the phone. “probably. this phone’s been to hell and back, multiple times. trust me buddy, it’ll be fine. one more revival ain’t gonna hurt this damn kenny mccormick of a phone.” Red seemed doubtful of Sans' conclusion at best, but decided to keep his concerns to himself. He squinted and leaned in to analyze the phone, trying to see how the hell his friend thought that piece of shit was _fixable_. “whenever you're done gawking, pass me the rice bin from the 3rd drawer over there,” Sans muttered. Red obliged.

 

The next couple hours flew by, with Sans meticulously working on his phone, and Red eating pasta and becoming Sans' biggest distraction. Somehow, In that time, Sans HAD managed to fix his phone… Kind of. The motherboard was miraculously fixed with duct tape and hard work, and that one of the bigger issues with the phone. Although rice was stuck in now stuck the charging port and the screen was a trainwreck, the phone could now perform a feat Red previously thought impossible: it could flicker on for a max of 5 seconds. The first time the screen had lit up, after hours of their combined efforts, both Red and Sans ballistically lost their shit. Red knocked his pasta over and managed to spill rice everywhere. Sans had tackle-hugged his unsuspecting assistant, and faced the harsh consequences of getting his hand bit, _hard_. On the bright side, Red didn’t form an attack, and was able to recover from his defensive reaction much more quickly to apologize. Sans knew he was improving, albeit dreadfully slowly.

 

They were taking a break and trying to see how much of the surviving pasta Red could fling into Sans’ mouth from across the room, whenever Papyrus barged in, just home from where ever he had gone. “SANS! EDGY SANS! YOU’RE BAC-" He halted, and his posture spiked up once his mind processed the scene. He kept glancing between his brothers in complete disbelief at the disaster laid out in front of him. "WHAT... WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS TOMFOOLERY?!”

 

Words could not describe the complex feelings Papyrus had right now. The lab was in utter disarray. Rice was strewn everywhere, and pasta stains adorned otherwise spotless walls. Previously organized paperwork and blueprints were now in varying stages of disaster, from ripped, to wet, to covered in noodles. Sans phone, in the horrendous state it was, stood as the least disheveled thing in the room. Chairs were flipped over, with splintered and broken legs.. Not a single inch of the room seems to have escaped the mischief. On the far side of the room, a now-resigned Red held the remains of one of Papyrus’ dishes, mostly gone from his previous sport of flinging spaghetti at Sans.

 

In the middle of it all, though, stood the pun master himself. His brother. 

 

Sans, who was covered in sauce and noodles, with his bare ribs showing past his dirty, unzipped jacket. Smelling like a gremlin who crawled out of waterfall’s depths.

 

Papyrus uttered a low groan, and rested his head in his hands. He faintly head the cling of a plate as Red set it down on the table, and that somehow annoyed him more. He knew Sans was beaming at him proudly, though, he could just _feel_ it.

 

“sup bro-”

 

“I… DO NOT HAVE WORDS FOR THIS. JUST… SPARE ME THE DETAILS. DINNER’S READY. CLEAN THIS IMMEDIATELY!” Papyrus loudly scolded before slamming the door and marching back out front. Sans sighed good naturedly and ripped his gaze from the door. Normally, he would be more amused by his brother’s antics, but… Papyrus had most definitely scared the shit out of their guest in the midst of their lighthearted banter. Red was standing in a defensive pose, and idly wringing his hands. He looked more like a 5 year old who shit their pants than the asshole who was cursing at a plate and aiming for his sockets just a minute ago. Sans didn't know how to feel about Red's subtle fear of his brother before, and he certainly didn't know what to say now that it was more pronounced.

 

“you good bud?” Sans cautiously asked.

 

“Uh… I-Is he mad or…?”

 

“paps? nah. hey, don’t sweat it. we’ll clean this mess up later, ‘kay?” Sans reassured him, picking up his jacket from the floor and brushing the rice off of it. It managed to survive most of the pasta, so Sans counted it as clean enough to wear. He would have to change everything else, though. Sans couldn’t help but notice that his pal’s bones were practically rattling. He didn’t get how any version of Papyrus could traumatize him this bad, but he was sympathetic nonetheless. He sauntered over and threw an arm over Red’s shoulder, rubbing his shoulder and comforting him as well as he could as he lead him to the door. It seemed to help, a little. Red was still as stiff as a board, but at least he didn’t look like a scared kid anymore. “dude, chill. we’re gucci. paps’ll probably already forgot about it all. now, c’mon.” 

 

“God, didja really just say ‘gucci’? Remind me to never fuckin’ speak to you again..” Sans just chuckled in response. The door was opened, and neither were surprised to see it lead straight into the living room. Red could smell the delightful scent of his hosts' cooking from here, and heard Papyrus working in the kitchen. “go on ahead, i gotta get some clean clothes, or the bros gonna freak. pap’s won’t bite, i promise.” Sans paused. He seemed to contemplate his next words carefully. "uh, red? look, i dunno what your bro’s like, but i promise you. papys the sweetest guy you'll ever meet. that’s comin’ from a guy who hates making promises. loosen up, bucko." With that, Red was swiftly ushered through the door, and it was promptly shut behind him.

 

The living room was much neater than earlier. The piles of dirty, wrinkled blankets that had previously been abandoned on the floor were now folded, his muddy Converse were freshly cleaned and polished, and Red’s mangy jacket was hung up neatly. He checked the pockets as he went by, but instead of his stuff, he found a sticky note on the inside pocket. He glanced towards the kitchen. Papyrus was yet to notice him, so he decided to take the time to read it.

 

‘DEAREST BROTHER!’ The note began. Red couldn’t help but plaster an awkward smile on his face. Papyrus was tooth-rottingly sweet, and he sometimes realized the hypocrisy of an edgy asshole like him being scared of a cinnamon bun like Papyrus. 

  


‘IN MY THROUGHTROUSLING AND CLEANING, I HAD FOUND SOME… QUESTIONABLE ITEMS IN YOUR POSSESSION. THOUGH THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS NOT ONE TO INVADE THE PRIVACY OF OTHERS, I HAVE PUT THE EMOTIONAL BURDEN ON MYSELF TO TAKE SOME OF THE ITEMS! VERY, VERY TEMPORARILY! I PROMISE! I’M SORRY, BUT THEY LOOKED... DANGEROUS. I TRUST YOU DEARLY, NOT-SANS, BUT I WOULD HATE FOR YOU TO ACCIDENTALLY HURT YOURSELF! I LEFT ONE OF THE DULLER WEIRD KNIVES, BUT I CONFISCATED THE SHARP ONES TO MAKE THEM SAFER. YOU NEED TO BE CAREFUL WITH THOSE! YOU MIGHT HURT YOURSELF!

 

I LEFT YOUR MONEY, YOUR PHONE, AND YOUR… BANDAGES? WITH YOU, AND YOUR MUSTARD IS IN THE FRIDGE! I’LL GIVE YOU THE REST BACK IF YOU ASK, BUT… PLEASE DON’T GET HURT.

 

NERVOUSLY NYEHFULLY YOURS,

YOUR NEWEST BROTHER, THE GREAT PAPYRUS

 

P.S. YOUR CLOTHES ARE IN THE LAUNDRY!

(P.P.S. WHAT DID YOU TWO EVEN _DO_ TO GET SO... FILTHY?!)’

 

 

Red was smiling dopily at the note and covering his mouth, as if it would cover the joy peeking through. Shockingly, he couldn’t even bring himself to be mad that his stuff was taken. _This is the sweetest fuckin’ shit I’ve ever read. I’m gonna protect this sweet motherfucker forever, holy shit-_   Magic was flushing his face, and he didn’t even care. He was near tears, and for once, they were tears of happiness. Papyrus was like family to him already. This adorable, fucking imbecile took Red’s shit, because he was scared that a scarred and dangerous monster like him would _hurt himself._ It was such a stupidly naive gesture that one couldn’t misinterpret the purely sincere motives.

 

The note was securely crammed back into his hoodie before he continued his trek to the kitchen. A scene awaited him there. Pots and pans were strewn everywhere, and tomato sauce was splattered on the walls, MUCH worse than the mess him and Sans had left, he noted. If he didn’t know better, he’d say someone was massacred here. Papyrus was at the stove, stirring a pot that looked to be dangerously hot, something that should have burnt the spaghetti by now. He wasn’t sure how this guy got good food out of practices like these, but he wasn’t going to complain as long as he was eating it. 

 

Red was barely able to see it from where he was standing, but Papyrus was wearing a hot pink MTT Brand apron that said ‘ ~~Kiss~~ HUG the ~~cook~~ PAPYRU,’ on the front of it, with small red stars drawn outside of marked out kiss marks. For Red, that was a critical hit to his soul. That was too pure to be legal. _Ohmyfuckingasgore, if anyone ever hurts this goon I’ll chop off their fucking ballsack and use it to hang them from thE DAMN CIELI-_ “SANS’ CLONE! THERE YOU ARE!” Papyrus exclaimed, setting the pot down and swinging around as soon as he spotted them in the doorway. He waved. “I JUST FINISHED THE SPAGHETTI! WHERE IS SANS???” He asked incredulously.

 

“Oh, uh, he’s upstairs ch-”

 

“THAT LAZYBONES! I’LL BE RIGHT BACK… WHILE YOU’RE WAITING, FEEL FREE TO TRY SOME OF MY WONDERFUL SPAGHETTI! I MADE IT EXTRA SPICY TODAY! NYEH HEH HEH!” Papyrus patted the top of Red’s head and did something that could only be described as ruffling non-existent hair, gently pushing him towards the table.

 

Before he could say another word, Papyrus had already darted across the room and leapt up the stairs. He burst into Sans’ room and slammed the door behind them, but even behind closed doors he could hear the distant trousling of bones as Papyrus scolded his brother. It sounded like they would take a while.

 

Without much else to do, Red moved the pots over to the table and started dishing out his serving, as Papyrus instructed. He decided he might as well fill Sans and Papyrus’ plates as well, while he had the noodle spoon out. Once he finished, he sat down, though he figured it might be a bit rude to eat without them, even if Papyrus asked him to. So, he waited, listening to the yelling upstairs intently. He didn’t have to kill much time before Papyrus marched out, Sans in tow. “I SWEAR, YOUR ROOM NEEDS TO BE CLEANED! IT’S GOTTEN BAD ENOUGH TO WHERE THAT WRETCHED MUTT IS SLEEPING IN THE TRASH TORNADO AGAIN! NOT TO MENTION YOUR ‘LAMP’- OH! SANS’ EDGY SEQUEL! DID… DID YOU RESIST MY AMAZING PASTA, JUST SO YOU COULD SHARE IT WITH US...?” Papyrus asked, his voice growing soft. Sans snickered behind him, but it was promptly ignored. “OH! SANS, HOW DID YOU EVER FIND SUCH A KIND AND GRACIOUS GUEST AT THAT GREASEHOLE? WELL! WORRY NOT, MY #2 COOLEST BROTHER, FOR YOU WILL NOT HAVE TO WAIT A MOMENT LONGER!” Papyrus dramatically announced. 

 

Sans had gotten tired of waiting for his brother to move, and had moved to sit down. Papyrus sat down next, though both Sans and Red had already dug in. Red was surprised whenever he tried the first bite, but a cold glare from Sans told him he should hide his reaction a *bit* better. _Papyrus wasn’t kidding whenever he said the spaghetti was fucking spicy._ Despite the reflexive scrunching of his face, he couldn’t say he didn’t like dish. It was still really fucking good grub, even if it burnt his mouth and made his eyes water constantly.

 

For a good while, they ate in hospitable silence. Though, with the coolest skeleton in the Underground at their table, both Red and Sans knew that the silence was doomed to vanish.

 

“SO,” Papyrus started, “HOW DO YOU LIKE SNOWDIN SO FAR, RED-TINTED SANS?” Red looked up from his meal. He was starting to think that Papyrus didn’t even know his name, at this point, but the nicknames were too creative for Red to want to call him out on it. The question was tough to answer, considering he’s lived here his entire life, so he went with the generic, technically-not-a-lie answer. “‘Ts good. Kinda cold, though.”

 

Sans raised his fork, pitching in to the conversation. “good thing the cold goes right through us.”

 

“Dunno whatcha mean, it’s pretty bone-chilling, if ye ask me.” Papyrus was about to speak again, but he caught wind of the puns, and suddenly went quiet He started to squint-glare at both of them whenever he realized what was going down here. 

 

He wasn’t going to be rude. Yet. If this is what it took, he could endure these horrible puns a while longer for his otherwise wonderful guest’s pleasure.

 

“you really able to feel it in your bones? must not be very ice.”

 

“Yeah, probably a spine I shoulda brought a better jacket rather than headin’ out there bare bones.”

 

“tibia honest, i think you’re just ribbing me. you didn’t talus you were cold earlier.”

 

“Believe whatcha want, Ulna’t push it any further. A sweater would be fibulous, though, if that’s snow probl-”

 

“ENOUGH!” Papyrus finally exploded, flinging his fork and slamming his fist down onto the table. Red ducked the silverware, and Sans doubled over with weeping laughter. They both found Papyrus’ short fuse hilarious, even if these outbursts still put Red on edge. “YOU TWO ARE INSUFFERABLE! STOP CORRUPTING MY WONDERFUL GUEST, SANS! YOU’RE BEING A BAD INFLUENCE!” He scolded, standing up and looming over his brother, who’s body shook with laughter as he pressed his face into the table. “s-sure bro,” Sans finally wheezed out. That must of sufficed, because Papyrus retook his seat and took several minutes to calm himself. Red had ported his fork back, much to Sans silent approval, and the household soon fell into a familiar calm.

 

“ANYWAYS- AFTER SUPPER, I WAS HOPING TO TAKE YOUR TWIN TO GET SOME STUFF IN HOTLAND!” Papyrus declared, digging through his spaghetti for meatballs. They both perked up. This was news to Red. At the moment, he couldn’t think of anything he really needed, and the request to shop was... odd to him. Most the time, Red and his own brother had all that they needed, as Boss always sent doggo out to get it. He hasn’t been in an actual store since their childhood, nearly.

 

 “uh, cool bro. whatcha gonna get…?” Sans asked. They both were curious for the answer.

 

“COMMODITIES, YOU LAZYBONES! IF HE IS STAYING AS LONG AS YOU SAY, HE WILL NEED HIS OWN ITEMS. AFTER ALL, WE CAN’T LET OUR GUEST FALL INTO POOR HYGIENE, AND HE CERTAINLY CAN’T STAY IN YOUR WRETCHED PUN-SHIRTS FOREVER!”

 

Red mused the thought. He was missing quite a few items he needed, like his toothbrush and file, and Papyrus had a point about always wearing Sans shirts. He was a man of class, and he wasn’t going to steal a collection as fine as Sans’. He also could use some meds, but he wasn’t sure this softy would let ‘em buy what he needed. He would have to sneak it past him.

 

“SO, IT IS DECIDED!” Papyrus resolved. Red looked down at his near-empty plate. He was regretful to ditch Sans unexpectedly, especially since they had made plans to get started on the machine after they fixed his phone. He glanced over as if to ask ‘you gonna be fine?’ Sans caught on, and gave him a thumbs up. _So it is decided._

 

After Papyrus finished the dishes, Red shrugged his jacket on once again, and followed after the ecstatic skeleton. As they prepared to leave, he glanced back, to check on Sans one last time. He was still standing in the kitchen, ketchup in hand, watching them as they left. Once they noticed Red’s concerned gaze, Sans gave him a small wave and a smile. As if to say, _i’ll be fine, bud._ Worries quelled, Red gave a toothy grin and returned the wave, wordlessly conveying what he wanted to say: _I’ll miss ya, bud, Cya soon._  

 

Satisfied with the exchange, he stepped towards the door as Papyrus droned on in the background. “...AND THEN, IF MTT’S SHOP IS OPEN, I MAY RUN INTO THE CAPITAL AND GET SOME OF THE COLOGNE BEFORE DARK- AH! THERE WE GO!” He said as he finally got the door he was struggling with to open. “GOODBYE, SANS! I LOVE YOU!” Papyrus shouted back. “have fun bro. stay safe,” was the last response given before Papyrus took Red’s hand and led them out into Snowdin’s streets.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tl:dr: the chapter where Red makes an oopsie, sans forgives him, they trash a lab, and Red keeps up the trend of nearly being decapitated by silVERWARE-  
> (then papyrus is like "oH sHoPpInG" idfk)
> 
> Next chapters gonna be out quicker. I originally meant for this chapter + the next to be the full chapter 4, but then I split it and decided to move the second half to chapter 5. 
> 
> I got a head start on it, is what I'm tryina say. Toodles.
> 
> P.S. I just checked the Google doc where I'm archiving all these chapters, and sheez. This things already 57 pages long. Is this what being a responsible author feels like...?


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red and Papyrus go shopping. Mayhem, multiple fashion crimes, and some hard talks ensue.
> 
> Maybe his life was always complicated, and Red's just now noticing. But with coolest skeleton in the Underground believing in him and promising catch him when he falls, maybe it'll be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been two monthes, oop. Sorry...?
> 
> For real, this chapter stumped me. Like, REALLY stumped me. I got some pretty bad writers block, but I started a second fic to kinda force me through and keep me writing when I don't have inspiration for this one. Hopefully that'll fix. Anyways, that being said: this chapter won't be nearly as good. But, hey, it'll be somethin'. Enjoy!
> 
> ....p.s.:  
> heheHEHH HEYYY SANS GOT IN SMASH Y'ALL, GAMERS RISE THE FUCK UPPP-

Red stared down at his reflection in the water, struggling to see himself past the ripples that the boat’s slow travel made. Soon, another figure popped up next to him, staring curiously at the water with him. Papyrus soon realized the water made a perfect mirror, and Red laughed as he flexed and tried out dramatic poses. He wasn’t expecting Papyrus’s silence over the long ride, but he wasn’t exactly surprised by it. Even in his own world, many people were skittish around the River Person, and if Papyrus’s nervous hand wringing was any sign, people in this world were put at unease by them as well. Red personally never had any problem with the River Person, even indulging their odd, riddle-filled conversations from time to time. They knew more than they let on about the CORE, timelines, and even  _ Him _ , but Red stopped trying to get real answers out of them decades ago. It was useless and only lead into more nonsensical riddles.

 

“Tra la la. Beware of the man who came from the other world.” The River Person sang. 

 

Red blinked.  _ Did they just…?  _ Red looked over, squinting. There was no way they, of all people, could know his origins. He was sure it was just meaningless babble, or a dialogue about something else. Someone else. He lowered his gaze once more. It’s not like he could bring this up in front of Papyrus, anyways. There was guilt that came with keeping Papyrus in the dark over his identity, but at least for now, it seems logical that Sans is the only one who should know of him. He would tell Papyrus eventually.

 

He felt a tap on his shoulder, and looked up to find Papyrus had stood and was beckoning him to come along. They were there.

 

Red straightened his posture and soon got off the boat. Papyrus had already rushed off the boat and stood several feet away by the time Red got off. He seemed excited, and Red shared his enthusiasm. Though he had to admit he was nervous. He hated his world’s Hotland, for a list of reasons, and the sky-high murder rates definitely ranked top five in that list. Red shook his head. He shouldn’t be so anxious. If Snowdin’s residents were to go by, the Underground wasn’t full of power-hungry monsters who strived to gain LOVE. Besides, it wasn’t like he was going alone. Papyrus WAS a boss monster, wasn’t he?

 

He caught up to Papyrus, turned around, and waved, bidding the River Person goodbye.

 

“Tra la la. Come again sometime.”

 

\---

 

“SO! SIBLING THE SECOND! I.. HAVE A SMALL QUESTION FOR YOU.” Red glanced up. Him and Papyrus decided to take a puzzle-free detour (Papyrus claimed that lasers on conveyors is the #1 reason he hates Hotland), and now they had plenty of time to talk away from the River Person as they took the long route around Hotland.

 

“Eh? Shoot.”

 

“WHAT… WHAT IS YOUR NAME, BROTHER?” Red blinked. He wasn’t sure if the hypocrisy of the question or the look on Papyrus’s face made him crack, but soon, he was snickering into his hand and trying his hardest not to laugh at the innocent question. Papyrus immediately seemed concerned.

 

“OH NO! ARE YOU CRYING? DID I UPSET YOU?! I’M SO SORRY, YOU DON’T HAVE TO ANSWER! ”

 

He was choking on his own repressed chuckles at this point, and just waved Papyrus off. “I-I’m not upset, pfft- Y-Ye don’t gotta be sorry, ‘Pahah-” Red managed to partially recover and straightened up to give the worried skeleton looming over him a thumbs up. Papyrus studied him for a moment, but most of his concern faded. “OH.. UM. OKAY. I’M NOT SORRY AT ALL THEN!” Red nearly broke up again, but he controlled his chuckles this time. “SO, WHAT IS YOUR NAME, THEN…?” Papyrus asked, much more hesitant to pose the question.

 

“Just call me Red, yeah?” He replied, and Papyrus’s face lit up. “RED! OKAY! THANK YOU!” Papyrus exclaimed, his face imbued with pure joy. Red grinned and shot him finger guns. Papyrus was a lovable person he could get used to. For a while longer, Papyrus merrily marched ahead of him, and Red shuffled behind him. After a small while, Red spotted Hotland’ main town in the distance. He tugged on Papyrus’ arm, and when the other stopped and bent down to his level, he pointed it out.

 

Papyrus’s expression lit up, and he abruptly straightened. “NO TIME FOR BONEDANGLING AROUND WHEN WE’RE SO CLOSE!” He announced. “UP YOU GO!” Red raised an eyebrow, confused at what the other meant, but he quickly found out whenever he was hefted off the ground and tossed over Papyrus’s shoulder. His eye lights were reduced to pinpricks as he tried to control his confused panic, and he quickly dug into Papyrus’s scarf for balance. He knew he could just kick Papyrus in the ribs and jump down, and he’d be out of this situation. But, he couldn’t do that. Not to someone like Papyrus. No, He would just have to indulge the other's plans, and hope they didn't involve getting them killed.  


 

With Red secured in his hold, Papyrus dashed off at full speed towards the main plaza. It was clear he had the stamina to be going this fast the entire time, and that he was only maintaining his slowed pace to keep up with his friend. Soon, they had reached the outskirts of the city. Just as Red forced himself to calm down, thinking his friend was done, Papyrus suddenly threw a bone into the nearest rock face, and used it to  _ climb onto a fucking roof.  _ His soul nearly lurched out of his body and ditched him.

 

Papyrus seemed incredibly agile, for a skeleton, and seemed to know what he was doing. Red couldn’t help but wonder if he had done this crazy bullshit before. Despite the other’s supposed expertise in parkour, the insane risks and jumps he took as he ran across the rooftops, rock faces, and balconies made the idea of punting him in the ribs and running much more appealing to Red.

 

Papyrus skidded onto a rooftop, and stopped. Red was clinging to and nearly shredding his scarf, and his sockets were shut tightly. When he felt everything stop, he hesitantly opened his eyes to find them 3 stories up on some high structure. He nearly shit himself. Distantly, he could hear the chatter and bustle of busy streets, and knew they had to be somewhere near the main shopping sector. “HOLD ON!”

 

He felt Papyrus start moving again, and heeded the warning to tighten his grip. “Whater’ye-” Before he could ask, Papyrus took a few running leaps, and jumped off the building. Red shouted and braced for the impact of the cold, hard ground, completely regretting trusting this fucking lovable maniac.

 

A couple moments later, he felt himself being put down, and his eyes shot open.  _ ‘M alive…?  _ He looked around desperately. They were in the middle of the Hotland mall, next to one of the Dreemurr Memorial Fountains. Around them, monsters chattered idly and went about their business. No one seemed to think Papyrus’s appearance was strange, and certain vendors even waved in their direction.

 

Papyrus nudged him, and he looked up once again. He looked concerned, and had to have been talking to him. He didn’t notice. “-ED! ARE YOU OKAY??? WE’RE HERE! WHY ARE YOU SHAKING?” Red took in a deep breath, and whenever he looked up again, he had plastered a weary smile on his face.

 

“‘M… ‘M good, Paps. D-Do you, uh, always do that…?” Papyrus tilted his head. “The, uh, runnin’ on roofs ‘n jumpin shit...” A light went off, and Papyrus nodded.

“WHY, OF COURSE! IMPRESSED? I ASSIST UNDYNE WITH HER SHOPPING EVERY OTHER WEEK! SHE ALWAYS RUSHES TO THIS FOUNTAIN WHEN WE COME, AND SHE LOVES JUMPING FROM HIGH PLACES OVER LAVA! BECAUSE OF HER, I KNOW THE QUICKEST WAY HERE! NYEH HEH HEH!” He stood proudly, and Red nervously grinned up. “It was s-super cool. L-Let’s walk next time, though, y-y’know?”

 

“OKAY! WELL, ARE YOU READY TO START SHOPPING?” Papyrus asked. Whenever Red caught his breath and nodded in response, he enthusiastically gripped onto his hand and marched off towards a towering store near the center of the mall. “EXCELLENT! TO MONSTERMART WE GO!”

 

Once they got inside the doors, Red soon vaguely recognized the store as a supermarket. He read about them in some of his Alphys' old human history books back home, and it didn’t surprise him that monsters had taken up the practice as well. He likely had a store exactly like this. He saw that Papyrus had ran off to grab a buggy, and caught up with him. 

 

As the taller skeleton made a comically valiant effort to separate a cart from the mangled mess of belts and metal, Red turned his back and watched the door and watched as people streamed in the building. Before now, he hadn’t got to see any other people in this universe, rather then Sans, Papyrus, and Grillby. Seeing the general public was absolutely bizarre to him. 

 

Many of the fashion trends changed between universes, he noticed. No one was wearing spikes or armor, yet many people seemed to don shorts and hats. He spotted bright colors among those coming in, but hardly any reds or blacks. The weirdest part of all to him was the lack of scars, though he really should have expected that. Absolutely no one seemed to have marks or disabilities, at least none caused by battle. At some point, he spotted an armless monster in the crowd and honed in on them from curiosity- but as they approached, it became clear that it was just a trait rather than a battle scar.

 

In the middle of his aimless thinking, he tensed as he felt hands slide under his arms. “UP YOU GO!” Papyrus announced for the second time today, picking him up and placing him in an odd seat near the front of the buggy. Red looked at him quizzically. “Uh, What’s with this? VIP seat for short people or sum’thin…?” 

 

“AH, SORRY, DO YOU NOT WANT TO SIT THERE? SANS ALWAYS CLIMBS UP INTO THERE WHENEVER WE GO SHOPPING, SO I JUST SUGGESTED-”

 

“Nah, it’s fine. ‘M definitely not complainin’ 'bout having to do less walking. So, uh, do you drive this thing, or...?”

 

“YES! UNDYNE TAUGHT ME HOW TO PILOT THESE! LET ME SHOW YOU!” He all but yelled as he enthusiastically took hold of the cart and recklessly steered it into the store at high speed, garnering the attention of more than one monster. Red immediately fought to sit sideways and see where they were going. He practically had a deathgrip on the cart, convinced Papyrus was about to crash hard enough to reduce the high-speed deathtrolly to a pile of bones and scrap metal.

 

Though the store seemed small to him, it was likely one of the largest stores in the Underground. It hardly stood to challenge the human supermarkets he had read on and saw photos of. Produce stood out front, and he caught a whiff of monster food freshly made from a nearby bakery. The loud chatter and beeping of registers was quick to irritate him, but Papyrus was quickly moving away from them to the more peaceful back of the store. Thankfully, he started to slow down at the beginning of the clothes section.

 

“OKAY! FIRST OFF, IN THE HOUSE OF THE GRRREAT PAPYRUS, I AM OFFICIALLY BARRING YOU FROM WEARING ANYTHING FROM MY WRETCHED BROTHER HIDES AWAY IN HIS DRAWERS. I THREW MOST OF THEM AWAY, BUT YOU’RE EVIDENCE THAT HE STILL HIDES A STASH OF THOSE ABOMINABLE SHIRTS...” Red snickered.  _ No wonder Sans was hiding them. _

 

“AH! RED! LOOK AT THIS!” Papyrus yelled as he speed walked to the start of the clothing section. He prayed Papyrus wouldn’t go for the terrible shirt he was eyeing, but lo and behold, in a flash Papyrus had laid the disgrace right in his lap.

 

“SO?? WHAT DO YOU THINK?” 

 

There was a lot he thought about it, but none of it positive. What Papyrus had laid in his lap was a was an eye-melting, horrendous abomination in the form of a neon green tank top. The sides were cut out to the point where they didn’t have them. On the front, “Totally Rad” was spelt out in red, all caps, comic sans, which of course overlaid a purple background. Red glanced up at a very enthusiastic Papyrus, and realized he the entire shopping trip would be like this. At this point, he would be wearing Sans’ clothes all week.

 

“WHAT DO YOU THINK? I BOUGHT ONE EXACTLY LIKE IT LAST WEEK! WE CAN MATCH!” Papyrus proudly proposed. Red considered breaking it to him that he was probably color blind. But of course, he held himself back.

 

“S-Sure. It, uh, looks very… Stunnin.’” Well, it wasn’t a lie.

 

His answer must have sufficed, because Papyrus was absolutely beaming. “LET’S PICK OUT A COUPLE MORE, SHALL WE?”

 

And so, for the next hour or so, Red and Papyrus argued over what shirts would be suitable for Red to wear, with Papyrus winning most of the battles. Their cart could catch the eye of anyone in the store after the first 5 minutes of shopping, and by the end of the hour, employees had to have thought them insane. Luckily, Red was able to convince Papyrus to get him some clothes he would actually wear, and they wound up getting two band tees with skeletons on it, and some gym shorts. However, those were small mercies. In trade for the gym shorts, Red had to let Papyrus put two skirts and a pair of slacks in the buggy. And, some MTT Brand Fashion Basketballs. 

 

“OKAY! HM… I SUPPOSE WE SHOULD MOVE ONTO COMMODITIES NEXT, RIGHT, EDGY S- I MEAN, RED?”

 

“Y-Yeah!... Ppf- I-I-I mean, s-sure thing, paps,” Red stuttered, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice. He failed, and Papyrus turned to see what he was doing.

 

“...”

 

“......”

 

“P-Pft-”

 

“GIVE ME THAT!” Papyrus grumbled, snatching the skirt off of Red’s head, and trying to remove the socks from his uncooperative guests’ hands. “UGH! I SHOULDN’T HAVE LET YOU SPEND SO MUCH TIME WITH MY BROTHER! HE HAS CLEARLY BEEN A HORRIBLE INFLUENCE!” Papyrus complained, much to Red’s amusement.

 

“S-Sorry, heh, guess you could say...” Papyrus glared. “DON’T.”

 

“...You  _ clothe _ him?”

 

“UGH! NO! THIS IS THE WORST SHOPPING TRIP EVER!” Papyrus cried, tossing the skirt in the air and sending Red into cackling hysterics. Red felt a ping of guilt at disappointing Papyrus, but he could see the annoyed monster was muttering his complaints past a poorly concealed smile. He couldn’t feel too bad whenever his audience clearly ‘hated’ his jokes. “LET’S! JUST! GO GET THE REST OF YOUR STUFF!” Papyrus groaned, wheeling Red out of the clothing aisle. Red couldn’t help but look up at him with his signature shit-eating grin as Papyrus was forced to face him once again. Papyrus started to walk faster.

 

They made it to the other side of the store in record time, and Red soon noticed Papyrus had pulled up a couple ailes from the pharmacy. He could see shelves full of medicine nearby, and if he could just escape Paps for a few minutes…

 

“ALRIGHT! HERE’S SOME OF THE BETTER BRANDS! DO YOU LIKE ‘MONSTER MINT,’ ‘FIRE & ASH,’ OR ‘FLUFFY BUNNY BUBBLEGUM’?” Papyrus asked, holding a handful of boxes out to him. His face scrunched up in blatant confusion.  _ The ell’s this shit…?  _

 

Held out in front of him were 3 slender boxes that advertised a small tube of some sort of cream on the front. There were a variety of apparent ‘flavors,’ as Papyrus had told him, written in fine print at the bottom. All the boxes were labeled ‘MTT Brand Toothpaste.’ He could feel the glitter and sequins glinting off the overdecorated packaging from here. Even the Dark Red was insufferable, but at least it was better than the others.  


 

“Uh… I’ll go with the Ash thing, bud. What the hell’s this for, anyways?” He muttered, resting his hand on the hand bar of the cart and watching Papyrus swipe most of the red-and-black boxes off the shelf. He paused whenever he heard Red’s question. “HUH? WHAT DO YOU MEAN?” Red momentarily hesitated and considered blowing it off, but Papyrus saw the look in his eyes and abandoned the shelf to face him. He seemed to know exactly what Red meant. “YOU… YOU KNOW WHAT TOOTHPASTE IS, CORRECT, RED…? YOU USE THAT, RIGHT?” Papyrus asked. He was growing much more concerned. “Uh… N-No? I think Boss might use it, but uh...” Papyrus’s eyebrows knit together and Red noticed his jaw clench. “BOSS? I... I SEE.” He murmured. At first Red thought he might be mad, but his normal joy returned to his face as he turned away and continued to pile more of the ‘toothpaste’ into the cart. He nervously messed with one of the cart’s belts while Papyrus returned and began to push them off, away from the pharmacy, and off to the next location.

 

Luckily for him, a skeleton as great as Papyrus never let the mood damper for long.

 

In less than ten minutes, they were in the bedding aisle, having a pillow fight to the death to determine what blankets to get Red. Papyrus insisted on the fluffy bunny bedding, but Red was dead set on a fluffy black-and-blue echo flower design. Being a battle-hardened, strategic monster really had it’s perks in pillow fights, and before they knew it, Red was grinning up at Papyrus with his usual smirk, this time from under a water-scented black and blue blanket.

 

“I STILL INSIST FLUFFY BUNNY IS A MUCH BETTER DESIGN.”

 

“It reeked of bubble gum, bro.”

 

“THAT’S THE POINT!” Papyrus huffed, continuing on their trek as Red burrowed into the fortress of fashion crimes and fluffy blankets resided in their buggy. After nagging Red for what felt like half an hour on the safety precautions of being in the buggy, he had given up and let him move there while he piled spaghetti ingredients galore at his feet. Sans probably fell asleep in the carts too, he figured.  


 

Soon, though, Red felt the cart stop, and perked up. The blankets around him shifted, and the store lights blinded the half asleep lazybones as Papyrus lifted the blankets to peek under at him. “Uh, ‘sup?” 

 

“RED! I CAN’T THINK OF MUCH ELSE TO GET… IS THERE ANYTHING YOU NEED?” Papyrus asked him. Red struggled to sit up straight, racking his brain. He couldn't ask for meds, obviously, but he could perhaps get by with some other necessities he considered more innocent. Soon, he had come up with a good answer. “Oh yeah! Could‘ja get me some tooth files ‘n marrow filler while we’re here?” He asked. Papyrus’s expression quickly switched to concern, and he knitted his brows.  _ Shit, again? That stuff bad in this universe or somethin’…?  _

 

“OH, UM... SURE! THE GREAT PAPYRUS WILL BE HAPPY TO GATHER ALL THE SUPPLIES FOR YOUR COMPLETELY UNSUSPICIOUS NEEDS!” Red sighed. Papyrus at least was allowing him to actually get the stuff, even if he was brimmed with hesitance and worry. He waited patiently for Papyrus to let the blanket down again, but whenever he looked much up, Papyrus was looking down at him with genuine concern. He shrunk back. He quickly found that he hated the unwelcome attention that came with making Paps worry. “R-RED…?”

 

“Eh…?”

 

“I... I THINK WE MAY NEED A CHAT ON THE WAY HOME, BROTHER.” He gently spoke. Red felt his stomach knot up, but he nodded, and Papyrus cautiously let the blanket down once more. He knew Papyrus was concerned for some reason, but he couldn’t place why. At least he could understand why the kindhearted idiot was worried when his knives were taken, but now? The cart began to move again, and he just fidgeted with the ‘Totally Rad’ shirt, idly trying to pick off parts of the eye watering print.  _ Guess I’ll figure this shit out whenever this fucking ‘chat’ comes,  _ He grumpily though to himself.

 

He felt the cart stop again. “UM, RED? DO YOU WANT THE BLUE SHARPENER OR THE RED ONE…? I’M GETTING THE ONE WITH THE SAFETY LINER SO YOU DON’T CUT YOUR MOUTH ON ACCIDENT!”

 

“Red ‘ne. Thank ya paps.” His muffled voice rang through. After a moment, he felt a small package land in the cart near his feet, and he smiled. He found it sweet that Papyrus cared so much for his safety, even if his adoration was accompanied by annoyance and confusion. Good thing he learned how to pry the safety liners off whenever Boss got the wrong brand.

 

A little while later, he felt the cart stop again, and waited patiently for Papyrus to speak up. He was not disappointed. “OKAY! HOW MUCH… UM, FILLER, DO YOU NEED? THEY HAVE 2 OZ TUBES AND 6 OZ TUBES!” He announced, trying to seem cheery despite the telltale waver in his voice. Red couldn’t place why he was so worried about something like marrow filler. It could be because many of this universes monsters seemingly don’t have scars, and maybe he was.. Skiddish?

 

“If they’re on sale get me… I dunno, eight of th’ big tubes? If it in’t, get four, I’ll make ‘em last.”

 

He heard a startled ‘nyeh’, but Papyrus didn’t make further comments. In a couple of moments, he felt…  _ 1, 2, 5-  _ Ten whole tubes drop into the buggy. Enough to last him into the week after next. For a small while after that, there was silence, minus the chatter and white noise of the store. Papyrus cleared his throat and spoke up once again. His tone changed quiet a bit. “BROTHER! COULD… COULD YOU HELP ME WITH SOMETHING, WHILE WE’RE HERE?” Red paused. Papyrus still sounded nervous, but something told him it wasn’t due to whatever the fuck Red’s problem was. He sounded almost sheepish with his request.

 

Red sat up and popped his head out of the blankets, instead opting to wrap them around him. “Yo?”

 

“I… AS YOU KNOW, I BROKE SANS PHONE. AGAIN. I FEEL REALLY BAD ABOUT IT, AND WANT TO GET HIM A PRESENT, MAYBE… COULD YOU HELP ME PICK SOMETHING OUT?” He asked. He was tapping his fingers together and sweating nervously, and Red couldn’t help himself. He snickered. “W-WHAT’S SO FUNNY?” Papyrus shot back defensively. 

 

“Pfft, Paps.. Y’know he’s not angry wit cha, right? Just get ‘em Grillby’s or somethin’,” He answered. The other just huffed in response. “WHAT? NO! THE GREAT PAPYRUS HAS TO ATONE FOR HIS MISTAKES VALIANTLY AND SPECTACULARLY! I WILL ACCEPT NOTHING BUT THE BEST APOLOGY FOR THAT LAZYBONES!” He huffed. “...BESIDES, I DON’T STEP FOOT IN THAT GREASEHOLE, RATHER THAN WHENEVER I BRING SANS HOME. I HAVE STANDARDS, YOU KNOW!” Red burst into cackles again, and Papyrus went silent, instead focusing on angrily pushing the cart off. He eventually calmed himself down from the hysterics long enough to talk.

 

“S-Sorry for laughing, pahaha! ‘Onest! I won’t do it again!”

 

“HONESTLY, YOU AND SANS ARE LIKE THE SAME PERSON. YOU BOTH LAUGH AT THE LEAST HUMOROUS THINGS I CAN THINK OF! UGH, JUST… WHAT SHOULD WE GET HIM? MAYBE YOU HAVE AN IDEA…?” Papyrus asked. Red shrugged.

 

“Eh, you’re his lil bro. I got nothin’ if you don’t. Maybe, uh, socks?” Papyrus’s expression seemed to darken at that. “NO. HE ALREADY HAS 80 PAIRS AT HOME IN HIS ‘SOCK COLLECTION.’ THE LAST THING I NEED TO DO IS FUEL HIS ADDICTION TO STYLISH FOOT GARMENTS.”

 

“Uh, maybe a joke book?” Was the next suggestion. Papyrus outright grimaced. “HE HAS TWELVE HIDDEN SOMEWHERE.”

 

“... Starmaps?” He offered as a last ditch attempt. He faintly recalled Sans’ maps getting soaked, and he couldn’t think of anything better.  _ He likes stars n shit, right? _

 

To his surprise, Papyrus seemed to consider this option. After a couple of seconds of thought, he nodded his head. “HM… THAT MIGHT JUST BE PERFECT! I KNOW MOST OF HIS OLD ONES SOMEHOW GOT WATER DAMAGE FROM YOUR… ACTIVITIES LAST NIGHT. THOUGH, I’M UNSURE HOW.” Red flashed a cheeky grin and shrugged, and Papyrus brushed over the topic. “I THINK IT’S A COUPLE OF AISLES DOWN.” He said to himself. After a couple long strides, Papyrus took a sharp left into the row, and Red turned around to see where they were. He nearly lost his shit laughing.

 

Of course they would be in the children’s literature.

 

Papyrus spend a couple of minutes shuffling through long forgotten books on the top row. Dust filled the aisle and forced a cough out of Red, though the taller skeleton seemed unfazed. Red got bored of watching the dust storm and turned away to mess with his tooth files. He quickly noticed the safety liner was different on this universe’s brand. He knew it would be a nightmare to pry off later, but at least Papyrus made up for the inconvenience by getting the expensive marrow filling.

 

A quiet but pleased ‘nyeh’ was spoken above him, and Red perked up. Just as he set the commodities down, a small booklet was thrust before him. Papyrus looked pleased by the find. 

 

“SO? THINK HE WILL LIKE THIS? IT’S ALL I COULD FIND, BUT THIS KIND OF STUFF IS RIGHT UP HIS ALLEY!”

 

The book was shook in front of his face, and he took the hint to take it as he read it over. “Galaxy Gazing for Beginners: A Monster Coloring Book!” Was written in a big, childish font on the front page. There were several “Wow!” and “Epic!” action boxes printed in yellow, all overlying a cutesy, half colored and completely inaccurate drawing of Orion’s Belt in Waterfall ceiling stones. Red grinned.  _ Oh, Sans would LOVE this. _

 

“Hell yeah! Lez’ get it!” He shouted, and Papyrus’s eyes lit up at the confirmation. Red set the book behind him with the rest of their stuff.

 

“WELL THEN! THAT’S SETTLED! LET’S GET HOME, SHALL WE?”

 

He nodded. As they wheeled to the front of the store, Red watched the mismatched tile pattern zoom by and contemplated how the walk home would go. It’s likely Papyrus had rented out a box, or, at least Red hoped he did. There was no way they would get their new stuff home in one piece otherwise. Either way, the walk itself was no issue. The conversation they would have during the walk was what worried the edgy skeleton in the cart. He secretly hoped Papyrus would forget it, but he knows Papyrus isn’t stupid, no matter how naive he acts. Though, despite his worry; he still had no clue what the talk would be about. Likely the items he requested, and the ‘toothpaste,’ whatever the hell that shit was for. Papyrus never even told him, but he supposed he would burn that bridge when he crossed it. 

 

Before long, they had checked out at the front (garnering only a few odd looks from the casier for their items,) and packed away their stuff in a box that, thankfully, Papyrus  _ had _ rented out. Red seemed reluctant to give up his seat after having spent close to two hours there, but eventually he shambled out of the cart and popped his joints as Papyrus urged him to the outskirts of the city.

 

Then, they were walking again. There was an awkward air this time, as both of them knew a hard conversation was looming over them. It clearly wasn’t one sided, as far as Red could tell; Papyrus definitely wasn’t sweating solely due to the heat, and he was never this silent. So, Red did all he could do, and trudged along as he waited for the conversation to start. His patience unfortunately rewarded him.

 

“S-SO… UM, RED… WHERE ARE YOU FROM…?” Red blinked. It was a bit of a random topic to bring up, even for Papyrus. But, it was also an incredibly hard question to answer. The correct answer is ‘Snowdin.’ But it wasn’t as if he could say that.

 

Whenever he turned to look at the ground, Papyrus seemed to understand that he wasn’t going to get a response. So, he continued. “W-WELL, THE REASON I ASK… RED, WERE YOU… OKAY, WHERE YOU WERE? I KNOW YOU SEEM OKAY, BUT… I MEAN, WERE YOU TREATED WELL? YOU HAD SOME VERY DANGEROUS ITEMS IN YOUR POSSESSION. AND EVEN THOSE THAT WEREN’T DANGEROUS WERE VERY… SUSPICIOUS.” Red tensed.  _ So THAT’S what Papyrus wanted to talk about. _

 

“I DON’T WANT TO PRY; I JUST WANTED TO ASK… THE, UM, ‘BOSS,’ YOU MENTIONED EARLIER… I DON’T KNOW WHO HE IS, BUT…” Papyrus trailed off whenever Red seemed to only tense more. He was treading on a minefield, and he knew it. The taller skeleton cleared his throat and spoke again.

 

“I JUST WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT AS THE UNOFFICIALLY OFFICIAL BROTHER, YOU SHOULD ONLY ACCEPT THE ABSOLUTE BEST FOR YOURSELF!” He felt his eye lights dim into almost nonexistent dots. He knew he wasn’t treated the best at home, but… Was Papyrus suggesting his brother was abusive? That was so big a stretch, it was almost offensive.  _ Or… Was it…? _

 

In all honesty, Red thought about this often, no matter how much he wished he didn’t. 

 

He couldn’t bring himself to label his brother as an abusive piece of shit. Not that little kid he raised from a baby bones. He didn’t care if Boss would hit him every once in a while, hell, they fight mutually all the time! But, wouldn’t that just make them both…?

 

He just couldn’t label his own brother that way.

 

And, truth be told… He was starting to find it was fucking annoying when someone else did it for him.

 

“I HAVEN’T KNOWN YOU LONG, BUT I BELIEVE IN YOU! YOU DESERVE ONLY THE BEST! IN THE HOUSE OF THE GREAT PAPYRUS, THAT IS ALL YOU WILL BE GETTING!” Papyrus took a deep breath, and tentatively rested a hand on Red’s shoulder. “O-OKAY?”

 

Red forced his racing, livid thoughts to halt, and forced himself to calm down. He wasn’t going to blow up on Papyrus of all people. He just  _ couldn’t.  _ Red realized Papyrus was waiting for his response still, so he nodded and tried to loosen up, for his sake.  _ He means well. _

 

Silent moments passed as they walked along. Papyrus kept his hand on Red’s shoulder, and Red slipped his hand up and grabbed Papyrus’s as a silent apology for the anger that never surfaced. He felt bad for even  _ feeling  _ mad, now that the situation was over and his rational was functioning again. He couldn’t help but let the taller skeleton’s words sink in now that the situation was over, though.  _ ‘YOU DESERVE ONLY THE BEST!’  _ Red mentally scoffed.  _ Boy, you are one hardcore fucking optimist, isn’t yeh? _

 

Papyrus nudged him, and he looked up. Lingering worry blatantly shone through whatever facade the taller skeleton was trying to put on, but Red irritably brushed it off as Papyrus began to speak. “THE NICE CREAM VENDOR IS AHEAD… WOULD YOU LIKE TO GET SOME? WE COULD BRING SANS A CONE HOME AS WELL!” Red nodded. It was still possible to end this day on a good note. A snack would do them both good. “Sure.”

 

After they reached the stand and ordered, Red motioned for them to sit down on a rock near the vendor, a somewhat snug spot that would last them long enough for them to hurriedly lap down their cones. As they idly licked at his cone, Red had time to think. He was being a one hell of a guest, wasn’t he?  _ God, _ He cringed,  _ This guy ga’mme a place to stay and I fuckin’ diss ‘em when he tries to say nice shit to me?  _

 

He glanced over at Papyrus. Even now, a glint of worry shone in his eyes. Even if he didn’t understand the entire situation, and got it all wrong, Red couldn’t help but feel a tint of disgust at himself for brushing his kind words off without acknowledgement. He looked back down at his dripping nice cream.

 

“Thanks.” He mumbled. Papyrus perked up. He didn’t seem to have heard him.

 

“UHM-”

 

“I said thanks, okay? Lez lettit go from now on, but… ‘Eans a lot that ya care, bud.”

 

That seemed to help matters. Papyrus nodded, and soon, the empty silence was filled with the idle and excited small talk that seemed to accompany the lovable bastard.  Red would occasionally make small quips or enrage the guardsman-in-training with a never ending line of puns, but much of it was him listening and licking at his cone while Papyrus sporadically recalled details of his week’s adventures, expressing them alongside grand gestures that sent his own nice cream splattering here and there. From starting a letter his crush and idol Mettaton, to spending a whole day watching Japanese ‘training videos’ with Undyne and Alphys on Saturday, Papyrus seemed to talk in detail about everything under the sun.

 

Red could get used to trips like these.

 

After that, all there was to do was go home. Hand in hand again, someone might have mistaken Red for Papyrus’s actual brother if they didn’t bother to look. 

 

 

 

**_Monsters are weird._ **

 

 

Red looked back up at Papyrus, listening to him hum something vaguely... familiar. Comforting.  


 

 

**_Even though they barely know you…_ **

 

 

His permanent grin curled into a genuine smile.

 

 

**_...It feels like they all really love you._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tl;dr: tall skeleton man probably learned too much from ooga booga fish lady, and nearly killed his new edgy brotro cuzza his sick parkour-  
> oh and sans is at home talking to certain white dogs and making his smASH COSTUME- (THATBETOTALLYCANONINTHISFIC)
> 
> Btw, most of this chapter happens in a part of Hotland you don’t see in game, since I’m like 900% convinced the Underground is much bigger than just the sections the human passes through-
> 
> This chapter in particular is prone to mistakes. Comment 'bout em and I'll get em fixed.  
> Next chapts out whenever. Hopefully soon. 
> 
> For now, Chao!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red and Papyrus return home from shopping. Red is tired, and also an asshole when his hand gets cold. Red and Sans try to figure out where to put Red's fabulous new 'wardrobe.'
> 
> A nice, sweet, totally platonic movie night ensues.*
> 
> (*Minus the "totally platonic" part.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess who's baaaaack
> 
> alright so i got hella inspo for this fic for a first time in a while so ya boy's back and better than ever
> 
> ive been editing a lot more thoroughly, and been using a lot more tools and techniques for this chapter, and imo, this turned out to be one of my best chapters yet because of that! so, without further ado,
> 
> enjoy! :)

Sans huffed, listening to the front door jangling, before it finally burst open. The last bits of drowsiness escaped him as he was awakened from his peaceful nap by the booming voice of his brother, beckoning for help with the groceries. They were finally back.

 

As Sans got off the couch and went outside, Red passed him in the doorway. He looked back and watched as Red promptly plopped down on the couch. He couldn't help but snicker. Red was exhausted, but if his smile was an indication of anything, him and Papyrus certainly didn’t have a bad time today.

 

“SANS! THERE YOU ARE!" His brother boomed, right in his ear, as he approached Snowdin's box. "BRING THESE BAGS UP TO YOUR ROOM! IT’S FOR YOU AND RED!” As Sans recovered from the temporary hearing loss his baby brother was notorious for causing, Papyrus leaned in and ‘whispered’ to him. “Psst… There’s a surprise for you at the bottom!”

 

Sans sighed. This’ll be good.

 

As they began to trod back through the snow, bags in hand, Sans finally admitted to himself how stupid it was for him to be afraid of something happening with his brother and their new guest. _of course it would be fine._ He thought to himself, shaking the snow off his jacket. He entered the house and briefly greeted his pet rock before heading upstairs. He’s already put faith in Red being a moral person. So, why was he worried…?

 

“Sans to earth. Ye comin’ in, or…?” Sans snapped his head up. He had somehow opened his door amid his thoughts, and he now looked up to find Red chilling on his bed. He was normally more focused. With a weary chuckle, he walked in and shut the door behind him. Popato chips were in Red's lap, and as Sans got closer, Red held out a wrapped nice cream bar for him. “Paps gotcha this, by th’ way. Ya fix ya phone?” He teased, and tossed another chip in his mouth. He almost choked when Sans pulled out a fully functioning phone. “yup. just replaced the screen.” He chirped, lazily tossing shopping bags by the door and teleporting on the bed.

 

Red held out the nice cream again for Sans to take, only to find his companion already half asleep. Their hand was getting cold, and he was tired of waiting for Sans to take the treat, so Red devised a new plan. He set his aim juuuuust right, and shoved the bar right into Sans’...

 

“ack! what the hell, man?” Sans shrieked as he shoved Red's hands away and struggled to pull the bar out from under his rib cage. Red cackled, watching him suffer the wrath of the cold bar. When he finally yanked it out, he shot a glare Red’s way, but was only met with a toothy, sadistic grin. Sans gave him the cold shoulder and bit into his nice cream. “What? ’Em I too cold-hearted for ya?” Red teased, trying to get some sort of reaction out of him. Sans snapped and pointed at him, chocolate ringed around his mouth. “wor awn fin ice, buvkco-“He warned, mouth full. Red snorted, and Sans grinned at him. The moment soon ended, Sans stretched back out on his bed and wiped the nice cream from his mouth. “so, bud, whatdiyya get on the trip?” Sans asked, to which his guest winced. He raised an eyebrow, and Red uneasily stood. “Uh… How’zibout I just show you..?” He chuckled, getting up to retrieve the bags at the door. Sans waited for him while he brought the two bulky shopping bags to the bed, crumpling up the ice cream wrapper into Red’s chip bag and making a perfect shot into the trash tornado.

 

They sat down beside each other, and Sans prepared himself. Red was hesitating to open the bag.  _What had his brother bought Red on that trip...?_ Sans snapped back to reality as Red opened the first bag and pulled out the article of clothing at the top.

 

_dear asgore._

 

A chuckle escaped him. Red didn’t look very amused. “The entire bag is like this.” He grumbled.

 

Red was currently holding up a neon green tank top. But, it wasn't just any green tank top.

 

It was the EXACT one Papyrus had tried to dupe him into getting last week. At least he knew now it wasn’t abandoned on the rack, but instead would be well-used.

 

“heh. ya try it on yet?” He asked. The seething glare he received was a clear ‘no.’ “If I ever put this thing on by my own volition, yer welcome to disown me.” Red retorted, and Sans chuckled as he tossed it aside. He pulled the bag closer and gingerly started helping take the rest of Red’s clothes out.

 

 _dear god, does papyrus want to traumatize him?_ He couldn’t help but wonder. So far, he had pulled out three skirts, two socks (surprisingly), slacks, MTT Brand Fashion Balls, a black and white jersey, two fanny packs, basketball snapbacks, and some of the weirdest shirts Sans has ever seen.

 

The only thing he could ever see Red wearing was the skirts and socks. Meaning, 80% of what his brother bought was doomed to be forgotten.

 

“did you really not get anything you’d wear?” He asked, suppressing his laughter. Red nodded at the other bag they had yet to talk about.

 

“There’s a pair a gym shorts and band tees in there, plus a blanket Paps got me. Rather’n that… Uh, I’ll ‘aveta wear your shit a while, dude.” Sans nodded. “so, we done?” He asked, wadding up the first bag and tossing it at the tornado. He turned back to find Red was grinning at him. He could see the sadistic twinkle in his eyes.

 

_oh no._

 

“Actually,” Red purred, “You’re brother got ya somethin’ you’ll love.” He grabbed the bag on the other side of Sans and started to dig through it. He finally pulled out a book and dumped it in Sans’ lap.

 

A star map.

 

Papyrus got him a children’s coloring book for learning the stars.

 

Red cracked first, but Sans started laughing not long after.  _oh my god_ , He thought, holding up the flimsy book as Red and he continued howling.  _my bro’s perfect._

 

Once they both calmed down enough, Sans chuckled and set the book aside, grinning ear to ear.

 

“my bro’s the greatest, ain’t he?” He asked Red, getting a nod in response.

 

“Damn right.” He said, “It was supposed to be a gift for breakin’ ya phone. I told em ya weren’t mad, but he insisted.” Sans nodded. “heh, yeah. he doesn’t do apologies like that. always over exaggerates. he’s, uh, very determined, huh?” Red chuckled and pulled out his blanket, guessing he should get comfortable. “Yeah. He was insistin’ I git a fluffy bunny blanket ‘steadda this one. I barely got to keep it.” Sans laughed.

 

“yeah. paps is like that. so, how about we get your stuff put up then watch that anime? bet if we binge it, we can get season one done before pap’s gets on our case.” Sans offered as he stretched and began slipping off the bed, which Red copied. “Sure. Uh, ya talkin’ bout the space lions one, right?”

 

“yup. that's it.”

 

“What we waitin’ for then, let’s get this shit put up!” Red grumbled. Sans couldn’t agree more.

 

 The task of unloading the clothes into one of Sans’ small drawers seemed near impossible at first due to the sheer amount of clothes he had, and the size of the shit Papyrus had bought. Thankfully, after realizing MTT Fashion Balls were deflatable, the job seemed slightly more doable for the lazy duo. They had, of course, decided to cram the stuff in the bottom drawer: One that Sans was too lazy to bend down and reach most days, and one Papyrus hopefully wouldn’t suspect to check when Red ‘mysteriously’ lost his stuff. Most of it was in a messy heap that refused to stay in the drawer and instead spilled out onto the floor. When they were done, Red had to hold the clothes down, and quickly reel back as Sans hastily slammed the drawer in to hide the clothes. A plan that nearly lost Red a hand.

 

Once finished, they both stumbled up, and Sans pulled out a DVD box from the top drawer of his dresser that had clearly seen better days, as evident from the scratch marks and water damage on the case. He flipped the disk out and held it between his fingers, holding it for Red to see. “so? what we waitin’ on? paps’ probably went off to undyne's. we’ll have a couple hours before he gets home and needs his bedtime story.” Red nodded, and Sans started down the stairs ahead of Red. “So, flyin’ space lions, eh?” Red murmured behind him. Their steps echoed down across the oddly-silent house. Red’s converse quickly, yet quietly clicked down the stairs and caught up to the Pink slippers that glided across the floor with no more than a quiet shuffle. The more Sans paid attention to it, the more he realized how different they were. Even if they were mostly the same.

 

“hey, grab some ketchup and pasta while i’m setting this up, would ya?” Sans asked, glancing back over his shoulder. A dramatic sigh met him, with the slowed and unenergetic clicks of sneakers. He smiled. “hey, thanks, bud.” He said, returning his attention to the ancient VCR Papyrus sometimes got to work. Before he knew it, he heard Red sitting back down, and he hastily tried to shove the disk in. To his relief, it worked. A slow and wounded ‘click!’ accompanied the screeching of the scratched disc and the buzz of the VCR. Music blared right in his ear. Thankfully, Red took quick action and grabbed the remote to turn it down. “thanks,” Sans groaned, “paps wakes the whole neighborhood up watching mettaton reruns, so the volumes’ usually loud.”

 

“How the ell’s he not deaf?” Red joked, and Sans just shrugged. “running snowdin rumors say he is.”

 

Sans stumbled up, stepping over to the couch and sitting down right next to them. His arm was against his chest, and he was almost leaning against him. Red could still whiff the smell of Waterfall off him, and memories of just last night flashed through his head. Red’s heart caught in his throat, and he panicked. He ready to wrap an arm around the skeleton next to him, but his damn mouth was too quick for his brain. “P-Personal space??” He eloquently pipped out, instant regret hitting him when Sans quickly darted away. He hadn’t meant it. _So why the hell did I say it?!_

 

“sorry, bud! shoulda knew you liked your space by now.” He muttered awkwardly, chuckling as he instead picked up one of the pasta dishes that appeared on the table while he was fiddling with the TV eariler. He seemed pleased that Red had thought to bring the popcorn tin as well.

 

“Hey, uh, y’ don’t gotta sit that far, bud. Could ya pass me my noods?” Red had thought out his words a little more carefully, and partially mended the situation. Sans shifted a little closer, handing Red a bowl and sticks and sinking into the couch next to him. Sans was closer, but there was more distance than before. It was more of the friendly space that Red was used to when it came to other monsters… Why does he suddenly feel less content with more space?

 

 _This Universe screws with your ‘ead_ , he thought to himself, motioning for Sans to set the popcorn between them and chomping down on some of the butter-drenched kernels to ease his mind.

 

The adverts had ended, and soon, the movie had started up. Sans grumbled as he realized he had to get up again to get the remote and play the film. He was about to get up, but Red beat him to it, placing a hand against his chest and pushing him back into the couch. He marched over and quickly retrieved the remote, dramatically holding it up and striking at daring pose for Sans to gawk at. It looked like some shit pose straight out of an MTT magazine, and though his friend seemed more amused than hopelessly bedazzled, it was good enough for him. He hit play and sat back down. He was hoping Sans didn’t notice, or at least didn’t care, how much closer Red was.

 

Episode one started...

 

\-----

  
_...and dear asgore, it was terrible._

 

In all the right ways, the show had been absolutely horrendous. If their shared love for mediocre shows wasn’t evident before, it was now.

 

The plot was… decent. The animation was good at times, too. But dear stars, the voice acting. Though it started out cheesy, and only got a couple of chuckles from the two, it was only about a minute in that they found their favorite character. Sans was midbite into a forkful of noodle whenever the- _french? scandinavian? Italian?_ \- accent rang out. He took a glance at Red and saw the confusion and vague amusement on his face. After a few scenes with him, ‘Sven’ immediately became the clear scapegoat for all their jokes. Most the night was less of them watching the show and more of them cracking jokes at each other about it. Sans couldn’t even complain.

 

He found himself watching Red quite a bit. Seeing his reactions to his wisecracks he made at the Purple cats (of whom he forgot the names of) was hopelessly addicting. He saw the toothy grin spread across his face. He could still feel the soreness in his bones from the times when a cackling Red slapped him on the knee or punched his arm and told him to ‘shut the fuck up,’ which translates ‘good one.’ The surprise and fond look Red quickly concealed whenever he had thrown a blanket over him midway through the binge was practically etched in his mind. Hell, he even remembers the cute shade of red blush he brandished in addition to his chuckling after Sans made a joke about the constant moaning the voice actors seemed fond of. At first, seeing Red laugh always kind of reminded him of how Papyrus used to laugh as a kid when he first started telling jokes, long before he learned to resent comedy.

  
He was starting to realize it was different from Red.

 

Episode six ended. They were both getting a little tired, and with Sven leaving to go to the ‘space hospital,’ their favorite character was out of the series. The real world seemed to get less and less absorbed by the electric glow of the TV. Sans tore his eyes from the screen after putting episode 7 on and looked at Red. He was bundled up under the blankets, sitting shoulder to shoulder with Sans. His face was captured entirely in the blue glow of the TV, and his half-lidded eyes were still entranced by the figures dancing on the screen. Sans couldn’t help but think he looked… Happy. Relaxed. He had pretended not to notice as Red not-so-discreetly scooted closer to him in the middle of episodes, and acted oblivious when Red devoured all the popcorn in less than 5 minutes so he could excuse moving the bowl between them. By episode 5, they were leaning against each other. They probably looked like two friends just watching a movie together.

 

 _they were two friends watching a movie together,_ Sans mentally scolded himself. But… _are they really?_ Regardless of how friendly and simple it looked, it was a bit hard to think of it as a friendly movie night when he was busy admiring the small blush tinting the edge of Red’s cheek, or in quiet scenes, when he swears he can hear the beat of Red’s soul. Or, maybe that was his own? Tonight was leaving him with more questions than answers, one of the few things that ever frustrates the usually chill monster. He tried to pay attention to the movie again. Simplicity was his lifestyle, and ‘feelings’ weren’t really his thing. He wasn’t gonna overthink it.

 

A sudden ‘Thunk’ on his shoulder startled him. He glanced over.

 

Red had fallen asleep on ’em, and his head fell against their shoulder. Based on how into the show he seemed to be, Sans was guessing he would’ve stayed awake a lot longer than him. Guess not.

 

He fumbled for the remote and reduced the volume to quiet background noise. He was hardly keeping his eyes open, and Red falling asleep gave him little good reason to stay up any longer. He yawned into his arm and glanced down at Red, trying to determine the best way to move them both without waking his sleeping pal too much. His thoughts were blurred, and he knew he couldn’t make it to his room. Not that he minded sharing a couch with Red, he was a little worried they would freak out again. It was still bruised and tender from the assault this morning, but... It was okay now. He couldn’t stay pissed for long, even if he was serious.

 

Besides, he still didn’t have the heart to tell Red why he was so pissed. A stray bone grazed his arm. His HP just recovered from a status of 0.2.

 

He yawned again into his arm and straightened the blanket around them. He momentarily paused, but wasn’t too hesitant to laxly wrapped his arm around Red. He decided he was just about to try to move them to lie down, but…

 

His eyelights almost involuntarily shut out on him, and his skull clicked against the side of Reds as it fell to the side.

 

Though neither of them were awake, it was already unanimously decided:

 

They would love to do this again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i read over some older chapters, and think i’m gonna take a while to change a lotta stuff. i have an age old habit of over editing and finding my old writing cringey, so uh, expect that kinda stuff. most of the established shit won’t change, but there will be major revisions in some places. since this is my first fic, i didn’t know a lot of what i was doing and still don’t lol. i’m only changing stuff that was either useless to the plot or made things awkward. these lil updates will NOT interfere or delay with the next update. i'm pushing that out regardless, these will just be small edits in my spare time.  
> godiwishihadaneditor
> 
> by the way! i had to labor through like 10 of the original Voltron episodes for y’all, be thankful. that sounds great in theory, but my lord, they are hard to watch sometimes.
> 
> by the way pt2: i feel like it's worth mentioning i've become a formidable Sans Undertale main in smash. come at me.
> 
> sorry i kept you all waiting so long. hope someone's still into this lil fic. :)


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